Daughter of the Blood
by dizzykitty
Summary: Grindelwald won the duel that shaped the world. From the shadows of his Dark Empire an orphan rises and tips the scales for no one can deny the power swirling behind those emerald green eyes. And so begins a ruthless game of politics and intrigue, magic and betrayal, where the weapons are hate and love - and the prize could be terrible beyond imagining.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** AU (FemHP)Grindelwald won the duel that shaped the world. From the shadows of his Dark Empire an orphan rises to tip the scales for no one can deny the power swirling behind those emerald green eyes. And so begins a ruthless game of politics and intrigue, magic and betrayal, where the weapons are hate and love - and the prize could be terrible beyond imagining.

 **Warnings:** I have a warped mind and I am afraid it will start to show. Whilst I was reading Laurell K Hamilton and Stephen King at the age of 16 my view on what is appropriate is a little skewed. As a warning, expect violence, swearing, dark magic and the bloody reality of war. Any relationships that may or may not develop won't be for years to come and will be noted about then.

 **Notes:** Okay, this is the first chapter of what will be, I hope, a long and complicated retelling of a female Harry's youth in an alternative world, sorry for those who don't like female Harry's, but this story is one of them. There will be events, places, and people familiar from canon but I'm not going to be following the storyline, this story will be heavily AU.

I have always enjoyed stories that either follow the what if's scenarios or use a female Harry and do something different with it. This is my attempt at writing just that. This story will be dark, mature and depending on your view point boarder horror and much, much more again if this is something you don't like please do not read, and though it may start of slow the further along the story is written the darker it gets.

 **A/N 2:** I have re-edited all chapters, changed what needed to be change and revamped and refreshed the story a little. 15.01.2017

Any mistake that is made is mine solely and I hope that they were few and far between. If mistakes are obvious and are happening regularly by all means let me know and I will correct them.

 **Disclaimer:** The recognisable people, places, events, and spells in this story do not belong to me, but to J. K. Rowling. I'm not making a profit off this story involving them, nor claiming ownership of them.

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Prologue: - A Butterfly Flaps its Wings

A butterfly flaps its wings somewhere and the wind changes, and a warm front hits a

Cold front off the coast of western Africa and

Before you know it you've got a hurricane closing in.

By the time anyone figured out the storm was coming, it was too late

To do anything but batten down the hatches and exercise damage control.

Karen Marie Moning – Darkfever

Deep in the heart of the Steinernes Meer plateau, so rightly named Rocky Sea, hidden under layers of powerful wards carefully woven together, stood a single massive Black Tower, only shadowed by the Großer Hundstod Mountain towering above it, as the rest of fortress melded into its foundations. It was only on close inspection that one could see where one began and the other ended.

Born below the snow-capped peaks, a wind rose snapping at the peaks before blowing west until it reached the fortress. A lone wizard stood on the balcony at the highest part of the tower. Gusts of wind plastering his cloak to his back, whipping the black coloured silks around his legs and then streaming it out behind him.

It was here that he came to think.

It was here the ravens came, after a long flight. Their droppings speckled the gargoyles that rose twelve feet tall on either side of him, a hellhound and a wyvern, two of the thousand that brooded over the walls of the fortress, just one of the many defences he had placed that guarded the black walls.

He had built the fortress himself. Brick by brick, enchantment after enchantment until the very air and ground lay so thick with magic that one felt as though they were bathing in its presences just by being within the halls. He knew every crook and cranny, every hidden passage and chamber, every secret that both it and the mountain he had built it into held.

Though the motto etched on the entrance gateway of the tower, 'For the Greater Good', was already widely known throughout the wizarding world; sometimes fully advocated and supported, other times murmured with wariness and dread.

The end result had exceeded his expectations.

So much so that he had not only made it his prison where his enemies were kept, but he had also made it his base of operations. The heart and centre of his Empire.

The Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald gazed out beyond the outer wall, beyond the shoreline of the reservoir that supplied the fortress its water. He could see other peaks in the distance, but as much as they made a beautiful sight, they weren't what held his attention. On the horizon, he could see the defined shape of nine Ju 290 aircraft slowly making their way towards München.

A small smile crept across his lips.

Everything was falling into place.

His puppets that led the Third Reich following his advice to the letter meant that his plans were slowly coming together; all the while they thought that every move they made was by their own thought. The cargo that the Ju 290's carried would land in München in just under an hour, where his men were ready and waiting to collect and bring it to him. _Who would have thought using Muggles to achieve my goals could be so liberating._

The armies of the Third Reich were a crucial part of his success, using them to bring the muggle world to its knees before he disposed of them and took his rightful place. He and in turn magic would be met with little resistance when they were already on their knees.

He turned from the window, his curly blonde locks only just starting to show signs of grey, touched his shoulders having escaped its loose braid as he paced his office. Impatiently waiting for his guards to bring him his most prominent prisoner, who had been 'softened' by a one-month stint in Nurmengard's underground dungeons.

His aged gaze wandered about his private office, his blue eyes hazed with thought, tattered wall hangings, once battle banners of the enemies of his youth faded into dark wood panelling laid over stone walls, thick even here at the highest level of his tower. Clustered with countless books a variety of magical and muggle topics alike, added to his personal library and collection over the years consisting of only the most unique Dark Arts texts, with numerous magical artefacts scattered among shelves, and detailed maps of Europe, the North of Africa, the Middle East and Asia.

It was the maps though that held his attention.

Maps of Europe.

Stretched across tables, they revealed his plans for the war.

Figurines, much like wizard's chess, represented troops, divisions of tanks and artillery, and even squadrons of battle-airplanes. Magically drawn lines represented battle fronts and trenches. They moved as their real life counterpart moved, showing both successes and losses. Victories and defeats, so that his strategies for the muggle war were executed precisely in time with his tactics for the wizarding war.

For every action, the reaction was visible for him to see. Right down to the exact number of forces in each location. He even knew how many were magical and how many were muggle.

The war!

It had reached its peak.

Years of careful planning, finally coming together.

Almost ten years of working with the Third Reich.

And almost six of open war.

Most of Muggle Europe was under his sway.

The Wizarding World was slowly following suit as they caved to his power.

For such purpose superimposed on the map of muggle Europe, Grindelwald liked to place his map of Wizarding Europe. Ministries of Magic or similar governmental facilities glowed different colours to mark their location, depending on the country depended on the colour and the size of the mark, and with notations of the magic to be used, the negotiations to be held, and the names of leaders to either kill, imprison or persuade.

He left nothing to chance. Every possible scenario accounted for, every situation having more than one outcome and more than one solution.

There was only one obstacle that remained.

One obstacle he had yet to conquer and yet should he, he knew would change the very course of the war.

Albus Dumbledore.

The most powerful light wizard in the world. The coming and goings of Albus had always amused him over the years. Secretly attempting to form alliances for the British Ministry of Magic in an unofficial capacity.

Being the only one who had the foresight and depth of understanding to know some of what Grindelwald had planned he had expected it.

But never once did the wizard confront him directly.

For the same reason that he had left England and his quest for the two remaining Deathly Hallows till last.

But now the time was upon them.

The day of reckoning.

He knew, as did Albus undoubtedly did.

Soon they would face each other on the battlefield.

There was no denying it.

But while he couldn't deny the inevitable it didn't mean he had to be ill prepared.

There was only one person who held the answers that he sought.

A fool proof way to ensure his victory against the man.

In strength and skill, they matched. And while their directions of magic had drastically changed over the years since their separation he was confident that even so, _he_ was the stronger of the two in duelling. He had watched and listened over the years at his old friend's achievements.

 _Discovering the twelve uses of dragon's blood._ He snorted at the thought.

So much talent, so much potential wasted. Instead of standing by his side as they had dreamed of so many years ago, to create a better world.

A new era for those with magic where they no longer had to cower in fear or risk of discovery, but stood tall and proud free to practice magic as they willed it, as they had done so once before so long ago. The world they had both wanted; to rule the wizarding world united under one banner.

Instead, he had opted to teach future generations. To restrict himself to the limits of others. To turn his back on the power he wielded and all he could have achieved with it. He had put the shackles on himself, and that was something Gellert would never understand. But most of all he would never forgive him for turning his back on _him_ and their dreams.

No, the mind of his old friend was one he was unable to fathom, he never had been able to if he was going, to be honest with himself.

Gellert sighed; it was no good dwelling on the past. Albus had closed the door firmly shut himself, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was better really that he was on his own accomplishing this dream. He never really had been able to play well with others. No, far better that it was he alone that united the wizarding world under one banner, that he alone brought the muggles to their knees and gave freedom to magic.

It was far better that he ruled alone.

His musings were abruptly cut short when the door of his office opened, and two guards stepped inside, dragging a witch by her arms, brusquely dropping her on the armchair.

Gellert waved his Elder Wand once, and abruptly, magical chains erupted from the stone floor, instantly wrapping themselves around the woman's legs, arms and torso, pinning her in place.

" _Leave us_ ," said Gellert shortly in brisk German, gesturing dismissively at the guards.

With just a sharp nod of their heads and a click of their boots as they snapped their heels together, the Wizards then spun around and soon shut the door behind them.

The only sound that filled the room was the fast breathing of the witch before him. He could clearly see that she was fighting to control herself, showing the strength of character he often admired. While he took great delight in breaking people of their control, the lack of control over oneself offended him greatly.

Happy to keep her in suspense for a short while longer, Gellert observed the woman.

Dressed in a simple white dress robe that marked her station were, now nothing more than filthy rags, with trails of dried blood running down her legs and arms. A single gold laurel leaf brooch was pinned to her chest no longer gleaming as it had once had and a golden necklace that adorned her neck. Bruises marred her face, but still he could appreciate the witch's beauty. The curves that still lingered on her body even after a month of low rations; the ample bosom, the small waist and wide hips. The large black eyes that glistened still like obsidian jewels and dark curls that framed her face.

She was beautiful. Though had she truly been in the finery of her station then she would have been even more so.

Always one to admire beauty in all shapes and forms, he strode forth and soon halted in front of her. His lips quirking upwards into a twisted parody of a charming and courteous smile, as he intoned pleasantly in a faultless Greek " _My esteemed Pythia_ " a finger traced along her jaw forcing her to look up at him.

Black eyes met his.

His twisted smile widened at the fiery spirit that glistened beneath them.

She hadn't broken.

Even after a month alone in the dark on the deepest level of his fortress.

It pleased him to no end.

" _I do believe we need to have a little chat, my dear."_ He paused, ensuring that understanding sunk into her eyes before he continued " _tell me love, which of the following guarantees my victory..."_


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N:** I want to say a big thank you to all who have reviewed, added me to favourites and alerts. It is always encouraging to know that other people are enjoying the story too. This chapter has now been re-edited.

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Chapter 1: - **A Thief in the Night**

Holly lived her life according to three rules.

Just three.

They were simple enough to remember, the first; don't get caught, was one of relative simplicity and yet the hardest to achieve. More often than not, the odds weren't in her favour, and yet Holly prided herself on beating them more than not.

Her second rule was equally as obvious as her first, if you do get caught, run. It went hand in hand with her knowing her exists for every job and having more than one escape plan. It's why she liked to take her time on a job.

Her third and last rule was perhaps the easiest to keep and something she went out of her way to avoid; _never gain Wizardkind's attention._

Easy to follow...hard to forget.

Or they should have been.

If someone were to ask her exactly what went wrong, she wouldn't be able to say. She had staked the place out for weeks. Scrutinised every inch of the site, had even managed to worm her way inside posing as a delivery girl from the local butcher. She knew it inside and out, every security detail (which there was none), to every possible escape route, she would need. She had a plan a, b and c just in case something went wrong.

It should have been a simple job, and in and out with no fuss and little risk.

Of course in its usual fashion, her luck turned against her and in the space of five minutes every single one of her rules was broken.

The bodies had caught her by surprise.

The witch even more so.

What had followed after was something Holly wasn't sure she wanted to think about.

Somehow though she had managed to scurry her way out of the house like a rat only to run head first into three more Wizards.

But then they did say that bad things came in threes.

The three Roman Furies sent to punish wrongdoers.

The three bears that Goldilocks ran into.

The three Snatchers that were currently chasing her.

The night air seemed alive like thousands of crickets chirping. It buzzed and vibrated along her skin as each spell past her by. If anyone were to venture out and dare to look up, she was certain all they would be able to see was an array of colours lighting up the night sky. As if someone had let off the fireworks of old.

Holly supposed the only real thing were that none of them seemed superb at aiming. Especially not at a moving target. The downside was they were tracking her well, and should other wizards decide to investigate it wouldn't take them long to pinpoint her location.

"Come back here you thief!" one of the Snatchers bellowed, his voice booming across the dark rooftops.

 _For the Snatcher brave and bold, paid in coin of gold. He'll chop and slice you, cut and dice you. Eat you up whole;_ she absently hummed the old nursery rhyme. Her heart thudded hard and fast beneath her breastbone. The Snatchers were the only Wizardkind to frequent South of the Thames on a regular basis. Set with the gruelling task of ensuring obedience to the muggles that lived there they often took out their frustration of such a task on any muggle that was foolish enough to cross their path. Holly had heard more than enough stories to be wary of them...even a little fearful, and yet a small rebellious part of her, often threw caution to the wind, whooped in excitement at the idea of causing them inconvenience.

Someone had once told her that _she_ was her greatest danger. Her impulsive actions that she at times couldn't quite contain were going to be the death of her.

But even though the Snatchers were harder to shake off than she had first anticipated she had a plan to take care of it.

She _always_ had a plan.

 _Not that you had prepared to witness a murder, and one with Wizardkind's involvement either._

It was a daunting thought; Holly knew that even if she somehow managed to pull off a successful escape plan, they would still hunt her down.

Murders were always messy.

There was more than just the blood to wash off the tiles and the body to hide. Awkward loose ends to be taken care of - alibis to be established, traitors to be paid off, and witnesses to be silenced...

 _Not that anyone will believe me anyway. A muggles word holds no weight over Wizardkind's if anything it would just result in my own death._

Holly neared the edge of the roof and put on an extra burst of speed, preparing herself to leap onto the rooftop of the next house over. It was only a short gap, and she quickly cleared it, her feet churning through the air before her feet scraped against solid stone again.

She staggered forward a few steps, her coat flapping around her legs. Holly glanced over her shoulder as she worked to regain her previous speed. Even though it was late at night, she could see the Snatchers chasing her as clearly as if it was noon. The spells flying through the air only adding light. She could see one. Clearly, his solid form nearing the edge of the last house. The other two though were moving far faster through the air, a blur of black smoke, as they tried to get ahead of her to appear.

The two Snatchers solidified ahead of her, firing two spells simultaneously. With practised ease Holly leapt forward moving into a headfirst dive, as one of the spells skimmed past her arm she felt her skin split and fire seared her marrow; acid rushed through her veins, and her mind became unfocused as pain blazed through her. Her stomach turned, and all she wanted was to be sick with pain, but she couldn't afford to do that.

 _Breathe through it, just breathe through the pain._

Shaking her head clear of the pain she only just remembered to put her hands into position before she went face first into the concrete roof. She rolled forward using the momentum to stand in the opposite direction and continued to race to the other side of the roof. It was the last house on the street, and she knew she would never be able to manage to jump the gap between this and the next house.

For the next part of her plan to work she was going to have to confront the Snatchers, not something she felt particularly confident in, but she would do the best she could. Her plan hadn't included her being injured, but she was sure she could manage.

 _You have no choice but to succeed. Live or die!_ The part of her, a constant voice that lay in the dark corner of the back of her mind, urged. Always whispering and advising things she wasn't sure how or why she knew. A part of her that always warned to show caution above recklessness. Survival was foremost.

She dipped her hand into her pocket and sorted through the items there. The jewels ever so carefully tucked away, a few coins, and half a bar of dark chocolate that she had been eating earlier. While she had carefully been observing the Snitch's house.

Finally, her fingers closed around four small bottles and two pieces of soft, supple metal. She yanked them out and pulled on the pair of dull silver mesh gloves. The small bottles she placed in easy reach, hidden from sight before she turned to face her pursuers.

She studied them. They were all wearing the same style of ripped and dirty robes that she could only call grey. But she wasn't sure that was quite right, though. A Snatcher stepped forward wand twirling in his hand. He towered over his companions and was grinning from ear to ear. His green eyes glittered like a tree troll's in the semi-darkness.

"Give us the jewels, and we'll go easy on you," he growled. "Otherwise..."

"How cliché," she murmured, pushing down the pain that was currently threatening to consume her. "When have you ever gone easy on muggles?"

He shrugged, "Filth like you should know your place. The Emperor is merciful in allowing you all to live."

"Someone's got to put food on your tables, I hear you can't very well magic it up yourselves," she taunted.

"Come on," he rumbled "Give us the jewels now, and we will kill you quickly here and now. Don't and you know what it means..."

She let her shoulders slump with a sigh as if she had been defeated and had nothing left to give.

Wizards were arrogant enough to think nobody would attack them physically. Though Holly had come to the conclusion that Wizardkind or Muggle certain areas are particularly sensitive to anyone - eyes, throat, knees, and groin.

 _What if they are invulnerable to pain?_

She ignored the question her mind threw up and focused on the Snatcher before her.

He took a step forward...and then another.

 _Swift as the wind, quiet as the forest, fierce as fire and immovable as a mountain._ She felt her body relax into position and she shifted ever so slightly onto the balls of her feet.

She pushed back the doubt.

She pushed back the fear and the pain, and the questions that ran through her mind.

 _Why didn't they use magic to take her down?_

The answer was clear to see in their eyes. These Snatchers liked pain, they liked dishing out pain, her fear was an addiction to them, and they wanted to draw it out for as long as possible. There was a reason that they were Snatchers instead of living the high-life with the rest of their _kind_ north of the Thames.

He stepped closer.

 _Wait._

Holly reached for the bottles and hoped that they would work.

They were her most prized possessions...potion bottles that were full with what should have been explosive potions and a hysteria potion. Provided the person selling them hadn't lied. If they had, she was screwed.

Having them in her possession was an instant death sentence; for no muggle was allowed to handle anything of a magical nature but if they saved her life Holly was more than happy to live another day to try and figure a way out of that particular situation.

 _Live today die tomorrow._

Her mouth had gone dry and underneath the metal gloves, she could feel her clammy palms. This needed to work.

This really needed to work or she was going to end up dead.

 _Please work. Please work._

He took another step until he was within touching distance.

 _Now!_

She slammed her foot into his groin, putting all her weight and strength into the blow. The Snatcher screamed in pain as he fell to his knees.

Without pasuing for a second she grabbed the first bottle, throwing it at the first wizard, he didn't have time to defend himself; he didn't have a chance to react. Her aim was far better than theirs had been. It hit him in the chest, smashing almost instantly in an array of colours. The force that projected out of it flung the wizard back over the other side of the roof and off its edge.

Blood rained down in the air, and for a brief moment, Holly was frozen as her stomach turned.

 _I've just killed a wizard._

Fear slowly crept back in her mind.

 _Don't think! Don't dwell. Survive and then feel guilty._

She swallowed the lump in her throat and turned to face the remaining wizards. They moved as one in their attack.

 _Swift as the wind._

Time seemed to slow down, and yet she knew it hadn't, not really. It was just her perception. She could feel her heart beating fast beneath her breastbone. She reached for the remaining potion bottles, feeling even more apprehensive about having them upon her person.

She threw another bottle at the wizards, one instantly defended himself from the incoming missile, and a blue light shimmered in the air as the potion made contact with an invisible shield, causing a massive explosion of colours. Without hesitating, she threw the second bottle at their feet bringing them closer together.

A spell flew past her, skimming her ear.

 _One left, just one. Use it well._

She spun out of the way of another spell and reached for her last bottle. _Please work._

She threw it to the ground between the two wizards before ducking out of the way quickly. It hit the floor smashing against the concrete of the roof and released a puff of green smoke. Neither of them had time to defend themselves properly the smoke rising too fast. Within seconds of inhaling the smoke, they started to scream.

She didn't glance back to look at the damage that was being done to cause those screams.

She didn't need the nightmares. As quickly as she could, she leapt over the edge of the building, gripped tightly around the drainpipe. The wet metal slid through her fingers like greased lightning. It would have laid the flesh of her palms open to the bone if she hadn't been wearing the gloves. The wind whipped through her black hair, pulling pieces of it free from its braid.

She couldn't help it; she let out a small, happy laugh at the sheer, thrilling rush of plummeting toward the earth before gripping the drainpipe much tighter at the last possible second.

The _screech_ _-screech-screech_ of the metal rang through her ears, but the motion slowed down her descent. Seconds later her feet touched the ground, and she let go of the drainpipe. She didn't bother looking up to see if any of them had recovered, the second she could Holly darted across the street into the alleyway opposite. They would recover soon enough, and she needed to be as far away from them as possible.

She doubted that any of them would be particularly happy being outsmarted by a muggle.

Especially a child.

It was a murky world she lived in, but with no family, and living on the streets; Holly had to do everything she could to survive. Stealing put food on the table and in her opinion was the better option of the very limited choices she had.

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He had always enjoyed the pain of others.

It was a unique euphoria.

As he watched the woman writhe below him, her face twisted in pain, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. It had been far too long since he had truly been able to torture anyone.

Ten years, in fact, ten long years since the war had ended, and those that had experienced pure enjoyment on the battlefield amongst the blood and death had put on the robes of civilised witches and wizards and tried to harness the beasts inside of them.

Bellatrix Lestrange was no different than him; she enjoyed pain even more than he did and yet perhaps he realised letting her off her leash had been a mistake.

She liked it too much, and it had distracted her from the task he had set her.

He ended the spell leaving her panting at his feet, her body still shaking from the aftershocks of the Cruciatus Curse.

 _Her nerves must be on fire,_ he mused silently as he turned away from her. He despised weakness in others, despite being a master of exploiting it, and right now Bellatrix was acting weaker than a newborn kitten.

"Tell me again, how you managed to get caught?" he asked coldly.

"Forgive me, My Lord, I did not mean..."

"I tire of excuses, give me a reason."

"He would not reveal the information My Lord, I was persuading him otherwise, it took the time to break the filth, by the time I had what was needed another had entered the house. A filthy muggle scum, a thief. They saw me."

"And how did they escape you?"

"She caught me by surprise; she was quick on her feet, a child..."

He laughed.

Stopping her instantly.

He turned to face, unable to hide his amusement and anger twisted together.

"Are you telling me, Bella, that a child, a _muggle_ child escaped you?"

"My Lord."

"Silence," he hissed at her. "You disappoint me. That a child managed to outwit you, that she managed to catch you by surprise in the first place is a disappointment. You who were once my most feared Death Eater. Peace has softened you, weakened you."

"She used magic My Lord," Bellatrix cried.

He paused and looked at her. A muggle-born was it possible that one had managed to escape their methods of finding them.

"How?"

"I am uncertain My Lord, I held back as Snatchers were giving chase, did not want to risk discovery so close to the scene, I watched her fight them off, I watched her use magic to throw them off the roof," she reeled off fast.

"How old was she?"

"No older than eleven."

A muggle knowingly using magic was a dangerous possibility. He knew Bella wasn't lying; he had slipped into her mind the moment she had started talking, had seen the fight through her eyes as if he had been there himself. The muggle had used magic in _some way_ , though he was uncertain how she had used it.

 _How has she managed to avoid discovery for so long, our tracking has yet to fail._

 _Until now..._

Her mere existences outside of their control put everything at risk. For ten long years, they had gathered up every muggle-born in the country, regardless of their age, had taken them from their families, wiped memories even, and destroyed all knowledge outside of their own community of the possibility of muggles giving birth to children who could perform magic.

As much as he despised their very existence, he couldn't deny that they were a necessary evil. Specialised orphanages had been created for the sole purpose to house them, some were later adopted others weren't. But never once did they think that they had belonged to muggle parents, or muggles believe they had had children. It was a balance that Grindelwald insisted be maintained at all costs and one he wasn't afraid to destroy entire towns to keep it.

If she were to be discovered, it would destroy everything.

 _She is a risk._

And not just to the careful balance.

She was a risk to him and his plans.

Bellatrix had screwed up undeniably so, and now he needed to clean it up.

"Bella leave now!" He pushed his magic into the order ensuring she could do nothing but obey. She disapparated before him without another word.

 _No doubt to throw a hissy fit of her own for being outwitted by a muggle-born._

If anything it had shown him _some_ of his Death Eaters weren't ready for action should he need them.

 _I have waited too long already. They need to be ready, or I start looking for younger followers._

Something he could easily do given his position.

For almost ten years he had been Headmaster of the school he had attended in his youth.

A gift to him, from the Dark Emperor Gellert Grindelwald, for his services during the war.

He snorted at the thought. _Gift! More like a political manoeuvre to keep me as far away from the government as possible._

He and Grindelwald had a complicated history and an even more complex relationship.

Spanning almost fifty years, they had met when he was sixteen; the night he had killed his father and grandparents. From there he became an apprentice, heir, spy, and general. Learning everything that the wizard had desired to teach him and more besides he had pushed himself beyond all limitations that had previously been placed on him. He had risen quickly as well. By the time he was twenty-seven he was in command of his own legion, under the pseudo name of Voldemort he had became feared by all. As Tom Riddle, he had moved through the British Wizarding World as an advisor to the Ministry gathering information needed to overthrow it, and as a Professor he weeded out the weak and gathered the strong to his cause. All the while secretly seeking out weaknesses of his _master,_ his mind hissed at the thought, so he could one day overthrow him and take his rightful place.

Only to be pushed aside within the same year of the fall.

It _infuriated_ him.

Hogwarts had always been his home, perhaps the only thing he had ever actually felt positive emotions for. He wouldn't bring himself to say that he _loved_ the ancient castle, but it was the first place he had felt like he belonged regardless of how the other students treated him. It had been there that he had been allowed to explore his magic in the way he would never have managed had he remained in the orphanage. It had opened doorways and endless possibilities.

Taking Hogwarts had always been a part of his plan. Restoring it to its former glory as a place to learn magic, ensuring that no young witch or wizard was ever denied magic if they wished to learn. Not as he had been and forced to explore alone. But Hogwarts had only been one _part_ of his plan that he had dreamed up so long ago with his Knights of Walpurgis.

He had dreamed of a better world, a world completely separate from the filth that was muggles, the world where witches and wizards did not have to live in fear.

He supposed to some degree his dream of a better world had arisen in the shape of the Empire.

The only difference had been _he,_ not Grindelwald had been leading this new world. _He_ had ruled instead of served.

It sickened him, _bowing_ to anyone, _serving_ anyone.

He sighed; maybe Grindelwald had known him better than he thought. The Headmaster's position kept him as far away as possible from the government and any chance of overthrowing the Emperor's forces within Britain. To a small degree, he could admire the well-played move on Grindelwald's part. It was a well-respected role, still gave his _heir_ a position of power without allowing him too much say on matters of ruling the country.

By making Tom Headmaster instead of Minister of Magic and the _Emperor's_ voice in Britain Grindelwald had _crushed_ all possible thought of a mutiny on his part.

 _Delayed, not crushed,_ he reminded himself firmly. Patience had marked much of his life. Always, if he waited and watched long enough someone made a mistake. A lesson he had learnt well in the orphanage and a lesson he had put to good use in the halls of Hogwarts and something he could put to use now.

Of course, his placement as Headmaster wasn't the only leash Grindelwald had placed around his neck. He silently seethed; _the less said about that, the better_. His anger stirring ever so slightly and with it his magic, like a snake uncoiling from its slumber.

 _Patience. You have waited too long to ruin things now._

He was putting things into motion now, Bella had just been one step, and she wouldn't be the last.

The time was now when Grindelwald was vulnerable. Pulling out of his pocket he looked at the letter he had been reading before Bella's return.

 _She is fading. The time is now._

There was no signature, but then he didn't need one to know who sent it. The only person who would risk everything to ensure he had this important piece of information.

No, the time was now for him to act.

His walked towards the far side of his office, where a large sphere hovered in the air. It was as tall as a man with an equal diameter and took a large portion of space, and yet Tom Riddle knew he would never get rid of it. A cherished magical artefact created by himself. He had spent years on the project, sparing time as and when he could, but eventually he had completed it.

He had always been fascinated with the idea of how the former ministry tracked those gifted with magic, born to families outside the wizarding world. How they knew that a certain child had held magic when another did not, occurrences of accidental magic had never been truly reliable happening at different times and ages in the child's life. And so he had taken to research; books upon books, discussing theories with other wizards, until finally, he had found a way to create the sphere...a tracking device for all magical beings - humans and creatures. It's silvery watery surface swirling and rippling around the area as it morphed from the world map to continents, to individual countries and even as far as cities. The magical essence shone by flames of varying sizes, colours and degrees of brightness as it morphed from the world map to close-ups of a particular area or region. From it, he could determine the power an individual held within them, and go as far as even seeing if they held the potential of a Lord or Lady, as well as a rough idea of their location.

His own flame shone brightly. A blood red with just a touch more black than normal resting over the general location of his home, his exact location hidden under the layers of large wards that protected it from being plottable. Across Europe, near the German-Austrian border, a deep blue and purple flame shone with equal brightness. Grindelwald's flame, and from the general location Tom could tell that he was hidden behind his own ward's at his headquarters in Nurmengard, the Black Tower.

And while other flames around the world shone a variety brightness only a few nearing the strength of both himself and Grindelwald but not quite close enough in the enemy lands of Russia, Asia, America; it was one particular flame that held his interest.

It didn't take him long to locate a flame hovering over South London. A bright glow far brighter than he had seen in a long time, that on closer inspection was located somewhere in London, the _muggle_ side of London at that. He could almost see the near perfect swirls of white and black to create such an aura. It was a perfect blend. He had never seen the likes before.

 _That must be the girl._

Needless to say, he was curious.

She was a threat there was no argument there, she had seen too much, and yet his interest had spiked the moment he had seen the flame.

 _She has potential,_ he mused.

The brightness and intensity of the flame indicated vast and extraordinary magical potential in a child.

It also meant endless possibilities.

The child would be a potential benefit should _he_ find them and carefully moulded them to his way of thinking.

 _It also has the potential to blow up in your face, this won't be a child that has few memories of being muggle she will have eleven years of memories._

They would have eleven years of memories within the muggle world, eleven years that couldn't be erased or forgotten. Eleven years of deep fear and hatred for anything magical. They would see themselves as a muggle and not magical.

And that threatened the careful balance of ensuring muggles never found out that magic _could_ run through their veins. That they _could_ give birth to a child with magic.

It would be the first domino that would push all other domino's down.

It could very well give the muggles the push they needed to fight back and Grindelwald wouldn't stand for that.

The child would need to be found.

And soon.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Every city had a pulse. It was just a matter of knowing where to rest your fingers to find it. The Warren had one of its very own, a city within a city. South of the River Thames it stretched over what had once been the boroughs of Wandsworth, Lambeth, Southwark, Lewisham and Greenwich. Reshaped by the destruction of the war it was a labyrinth of streets and alleys housing a majority of the muggles that lived within the boundaries of South London.

Despite the late hour, the streets were not deserted.

Lights blazed in the shops, hotels, pubs and restaurants, the golden glows banishing the worst of the shadows in the surrounding alleys, if not the people that lived in them.

People of all shapes, sizes, ages and ethnicities flowed up and down the pavements, moving from one place to another on whatever business that drove them. Holly could feel a thousand tiny pulses underneath her skin as the streets buzzed with life.

And yet despite the motions of life, there was a silence there that was almost unnerving.

The further she travelled into the Warren, the lighter the foot traffic got. The bustling businesses disappeared, replaced by the darker side of the Warren. Almost every building she passed featured broken concrete steps, sagging wooden porches and roofs with gaping holes, like something had come along and taken bites out of the flat, weathered roofs.

A few minutes later, she turned off the street and sidled up to a brick building that used almost an entire block. A faded sign above the entrance read Southwark Library; all that remained though was the empty shell of the building. The books long since destroyed during the war. Like everything else on this street the sign and the library were a little worse for wear.

Holly reached for the set of chopsticks that were carefully concealed in her hair. They looked ordinary and yet a quick twist of the wood revealed the lock picks hidden inside that she needed.

One last glance ensured she was alone on the street and safe from observing eyes she quickly used them to open one of the side doors and slipped into the building. It was dark inside, not that it bothered her, she was used to it and if truth be told she found it comforting. Here of all pleases she didn't need to see, she knew it better than she knew her own face in the mirror.

She stopped short of a door that opened into what would have once been a storage room, now all that could be found were empty boxes carefully arranged to disguise from sight another door that was set into the wall at the back. Using the lock picks, she made quick work of the door before moving inside and closing the door behind her.

She walked down the stairs, before finally switching a small lamp on, upon reaching the bottom. Soft white light filled the basement, revealing a mini-fridge, a battered bag filled with the few pieces of clothes she actually owned, a metal rack full of books she had managed to scavenge.

A cot was shoved into the corner, blue flannel sheets hanging off the edge and curled up in the centre was a black heap of fur. The rising of its chest the only signal that it was indeed alive and not dead.

"Hey boy, I'm home."

The heap of black fur slowly moved, and a head rose, throwing her a disgusted look before stretching slowly.

"Love you too," she smiled.

The dog gave her an unimpressed look before slowly standing and making its way towards her. There were days when she thought it was more human than animal. He licked her hand affectionately, and she ruffled his ears before moving around him. They had found each other on the streets one day; he had followed her home no matter how much she had tried to discourage it he had refused to go, so he had stayed. That had been six months ago. She couldn't complain really, he was a good companion, and an excellent guard dog, but a small part of her wondered how long it would last.

She emptied the contents of her pockets onto the table, fished out the small pouch that contained the jewels and pulled them out.

"Eat your heart out Robin Hood," she murmured as she admired the fiery flash of the rubies, the sparkle of the diamonds. She would have to wait a few days at the very least before she could sell them. Keep her head down and a low profile, she didn't want this night to come back and bite her in the ass. _She_ knew that the Wizards would at the very least be on high alert for a while. But once she did sell them, she would have enough money to buy her passage on the Underground.

She smiled at the thought; the illegal passage for Muggles to America was a dream for most that remained in the confinements of the Empire. The crossing was dangerous for all involved, and some said an idea, but she had found the right person to get her on the way, at the very least. The problem was it was expensive, more than expensive. Hopefully, the jewels would cover the cost.

She had heard the stories.

Where Muggles were free and treated as equals with the Wizardkind. She couldn't really imagine such a thing, but she knew she wanted it. She wanted freedom more than anything.

Absently she reached for her left wrist, the brand that marked it burned almost subconsciously.

 _Don't think about it. Don't think about it._

She let her hand drop and pushed the memories that slowly surfaced in the dark corners of her mind, forcing them back into her secret box where she kept them locked up tight.

Whatever it took she would find a way onto the Underground and to freedom.

 _Whatever it takes._

Sighing she hit the lamp with her fingers, casting the basement into darkness. She moved to her cot and lay down. She knew better than to undress, one couldn't very well make a quick getaway if one was fumbling with clothes. She curled into a tight ball onto the cot and drew the sheets up. The dog curled up at the bottom of her feet.

She tried to go to sleep instead of letting the memories of the past surface. Tried not to think and let emptiness take her.

There was no point dwelling. She had survived, and she had escaped.

 _You are free._ The voice whispered.

 _No, I'm not. No muggle will ever be free while the Emperor rules. This, this is just an illusion._

* * *

XXX

* * *

He listened to the sound of her breathing as it evened out. Signalling that she was indeed asleep.

As carefully as he could, he rose from the bed and padded over to the other side of the room. He glanced back nervously towards the cot as she rolled over, but he knew she was in a deep sleep. She was relying on him to wake her if any danger was close by.

He waited, his ears stretching for any sound.

Satisfied he could hear nothing, he Changed.

He felt the magic gather around his body as his skin started to tingle, burn and itch. It didn't hurt, not in the way some might recognise pain. It simply was.

And just as quickly as it started it was over.

And where there had been a dog, now stood a man.

Sirius Black stretched in the darkness. Pushing his arms above his head, he could hear all his bones creak and groan under protest. He had spent too much time as a dog and not enough time as a human lately.

He glanced over at his sleeping goddaughter's form and inwardly winced.

He hated this.

Hated the whole situation they found themselves in.

Hated that she couldn't remember.

Hated that he was so close to her and yet she didn't know him, that he was only a dog in her eyes. But it had been the only option he had available to him when things had turned sour. To protect her and never be far from her side while she navigated the harsh world of the streets and being an orphan muggle. To keep her safe, he would spend a thousand years as a dog if he had to.

He had made a promise, and he wasn't willing to break it.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts from memories of the past.

His eyes glanced towards the table and the jewels that lay there, his eyes seeing them clearly in the dark. He mentally winced at the thought, turning Holly into a thief hadn't exactly been a part of the plan. Yet he couldn't help but admire how she managed to turn the skill sets she had but couldn't remember into something that allowed her to survive. Ingrained into her they were like second nature.

He looked back at Holly.

She was approaching her eleventh birthday. It would mean that even hiding down here she wouldn't be able to escape notice for long.

He had much to prepare before that happened. Before the authorities found her and thrust her into the world, she currently hated.

It wouldn't be easy to her, not by a long shot and yet being perceived as nothing more than a _muggle-born_ was still the safest option for her.

 _For a girl who was no one was far safer than a girl who was someone._

Especially her.

 _Get your arse into gear Black, or it will all be for nothing_ , he growled.

He had work to do.

Casting one last glance at her sleeping form, he silently apparated away.

He would be back before she woke.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2: **The Purge**

 _It is time..._

He stared at the words, written in glistening red ink, and smiled.

He took a drag of his cigarette, waited for the homemade tobacco to hit his system and ease his nerves. He missed the good stuff, it was in short supply during the Emperor's reign, but his own special blend did the trick...almost.

It was time. He knew it would be coming soon and had been gradually preparing himself, but he was an old man. His bones ached and creaked, and his strength wasn't what it had once been.

He questioned if he was the right man for the job, but then who better than someone who had nothing left to lose. Who better than someone who had grown tired of this new world?

He looked back to the parchment in his hands, re-read the full message one final time before throwing it onto the fire.

He had work to do, and little time to do it in.

He was the first.

The first ripple that would soon sweep the Empire.

Who survived...well that wasn't up to him, he didn't have the future of the entire world on his shoulders that was for someone else. He wasn't a hero.

He was just a tired man who had nothing to lose.

Perhaps that's why _they_ had picked him.

It didn't matter in the end, he would do his job, and then he would find peace, the real peace that he had not had in such a long time.

 _It is time..._

* * *

XXX

* * *

In Holly's opinion, the Warren was a gloomy sight in daylight.

Gone were the bustle and electrifying undercurrent that could be found at night to a darker current despite the fact it was equally active. Almost as if someone covered the city in a thick blanket every sunrise. But then darkness could often hide the truth, conceal the lies and convince even the most jaded of muggles that they were free.

Daylight brought the truth.

The scars of the war were illuminated.

Buildings packed closely together making them seem squat despite the fact that they were generally three stories high. Amongst the old were newer smaller buildings, built within the last ten years, wretched houses with broken windows patched with rags and paper.

It was a mismatch, like a jigsaw that didn't fit quite right. In certain sections, which lasted for streets, you could almost see what London had been like before the war. Where streets could _possibly_ be paved with gold, but then it changed just as quickly to something withered and in disrepair. Like something had eaten large pieces out of the city. Occasionally dotted amongst the foot traffic you could see the curved shapes of cars, belonging to those who were wealthy enough to ensure that they had a better life, travelling through the Warren only because they had to.

The Warren was home to the workers, the poor, the desperate, the misfits and the Underworld. Further South of the Warren one could find the richer houses of muggles who had accepted the new regime, who had still managed to obtain some power for themselves in this new world, either by bowing and scraping, snitching or who were members of the Watch who policed their own kind. Far enough away from the Wizardkind that they could perhaps imagine that everything was as it should be and they still had their own special place in the world. Occasionally families were even important enough to live north of the River Thames.

It was ironic really.

The Warren being closer to the wizards than those who served them willingly.

But then maybe that was the point. Subdued on all sides, there was less likely to be any rebellion. Not that the Wizards would dare do anything about the Warren.

 _The Underworld protects the Warren, everyone knows that. The Wizards can accept them because they are like sewer rats, kill one another will just take their place._

Everyone trod carefully in the Warren, regardless of where their loyalties lay.

Holly observed the people around her as they started their day, carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone and yet walking confidently enough that she looked like she belonged. Even in day time danger lurked in the Warren for the unwary, and while most held her size as a favour to them, Holly was anything but unwary.

" _Dearie!_ Stay a moment; I have your future for you."

It was a bold statement to make, and yet Holly noted that nobody battered an eyelid at it. Accustomed to the ramblings of Mama Miriam's as she sat beneath the cloth shade of her market stall, various trinkets glinting silver bright in the sun before her.

With her broad smile and large girth, Mama Miriam was a well-known fixture at the Market and the Warren. Her laughter booming across the crowded aisles and her penchant for sharing people's futures, tolerated even by the Watch when they bothered to venture this far into the Warren.

Never before though had she turned her beady eyes in Holly's direction, until today. Holly wasn't sure whether to take it as an omen of things to come or not, she had never had much faith in the _futures_ Mama Miriam had predicted. Her life would have quickly been taken from her had they held any real weight. And yet there she sat, day after day, entertaining the few people that were both brave enough and foolish enough to risk _playing with magic_ regardless of whether it was real or not.

It was something all muggles avoided.

It was something they all feared, even if they had a morbid curiosity towards it.

"You can keep my future Mama Miriam," she replied, well aware that she was risking bringing, even more, attention to herself than necessary. The last thing she needed was someone to think _she_ was associating with anything magical - regardless of how unlikely anything of Mama Miriam's was magical. Not after her recent adventure. The memories were still too fresh. The potions had worked, had actually worked.

 _And have either killed a wizard or injured them significantly. Move away now Holly, keep walking, you have somewhere else you need to be._

"Come, my friend, the girl who is no one of anyone, let us see what we can."

Inwardly Holly winced; while Mama Miriam hadn't said it to be cruel, it had brought home the very obvious fact that she was no one. Just another nameless face in a sea of anonymous people. Someone that didn't belong. While she had long since come to accept that fact and accept that she was perfectly fine on her own, there were often times where Holly couldn't help but think something was missing and she couldn't quite put her finger on what.

"What will you give me?" She asked, hoping that the question would put Mama Miriam off from hassling her any further as she made it _clear_ she wouldn't be giving anything.

"Give you? Your future, muddle brain I cannot pick and choose _whose_ I see girl, and right now I see a swirl of colours around you."

Not seeing any room to argue Holly reluctantly gave in, offering Mama Miriam, her hand. It would cause more attention arguing against something that was being given for free than it would to accept the _future_ and move on quickly afterwards. While she did have a destination, she needed to get to she wasn't in a hurry about it, preferring to take her time and avoid bringing attention to her.

 _Something I am clearly successful at,_ she mentally snorted.

She was aware of the few people gathering around her, as they often did whenever Mama Miriam was giving one of her predictions. Holly tried not to fidget as the woman's palms clasped around her hand.

"You are going somewhere."

"Everyone is going somewhere," Holly answered with a small smile. Her words drawing laughter from those that had gathered.

"Don't be pedantic," Mama Miriam chided, "You are going further than you have ever gone before, it is unclear _where_ , but very soon you are going somewhere far away."

Holly stilled. Catching her breath just in time to steady it and continue normally and calmly. Did Mama Miriam know what she had been planning? Know what she intended?

 _Not possible, you have been careful, you have left no trail._

"Chaos walks beside you hand in hand; death walks behind you."

On cue, Holly heard the gasps around her and mentally groaned. Every once in a while Mama Miriam liked to throw a doom and gloom future out, people as a whole seemed to lap it up like written fact and everyone it seemed loved drama of some description. Especially when it was someone else's drama.

"I need to go," Holly said as she attempted to pull her hand from Mama Miriam's grasp. The woman's hand tightened around hers, almost painfully so, keeping her firmly in place.

"Whispers in the dark, who are you no one, who are you? A wall that isn't a wall. A name that isn't a name. A toil begat by father's blood. This path an unsought road was decided long ago," Mama Miriam croaked.

For a brief moment, Holly felt a weight settle on her shoulder like every word was an invisible chain tying her down to something she didn't want to be linked to, "I see you no one, I see you."

"Let go of me," Holly hissed, her jaw clenching as she tried to pull her hand free.

"Run, run and don't stop, run and pray _he_ doesn't catch you."

"Who doesn't catch her?" someone from the crowd shouted.

"Run," Mama Miriam laughed, "Run..."

She let go of her hand abruptly, and Holly stumbled from the motion of pulling herself away.

As soon as she had her feet firmly under her Holly ran, ran from the laughing crowds and the haunting words of Mama Miriam, _what the fuck was that?_ Something had been different about her prediction; she had never heard one like it before and while she wanted to say it was nonsense and just ignore it a small voice in the back of her mind whispered _caution._

Whatever it had been or was Holly knew she wanted to get away from it and far from Mama Miriam.

 _Maybe it is best if we avoid her for the near future_ , her mind whispered.

Holly couldn't agree more.

* * *

She didn't stop running until she was four streets away from Mama Miriam's stall. Slowing down she eased into the shadows allowing herself a few moments to catch her breath.

Freaky predictions of her future had not been on her agenda when she had left the safety of the library earlier that morning.

No, she had set out to see a man about some jewels.

Deciding somewhat that she needed to fence the jewels she stole as quickly as possible, rather than waiting any longer, as she had initially planned, and allowing the word to spread that those jewels were associated with a muggle using magic against Wizardkind.

While the Underground mostly turned a blind eye to the coming and goings of its residents provided, they didn't disrupt the uneasy peace that had settled over the Warren or interfere with Underground sanctioned jobs, everyone frowned on bringing Wizardkind attention to the Warren. Holly knew they were just as likely to offer her up with a bow on top if they ever caught wind of her activities just to ensure no repercussions came to the Warren. It was an uneasy balance but one for the time being that seemed to work. The Warren didn't want any more Wizardkind than necessary patrolling their streets, and the Wizardkind didn't want to deal with them unless they absolutely had to.

Though she couldn't help but notice that there were an unusual amount of Snatchers within the Warren. Dressed in long dark robes of a leather looking hide but Holly was uncertain whether it _was_ leather. Wands holstered at their hips or on their arms depending on the individual, the sigil of the Empire was clearer to see, in daylight, on the backs of their robes. Their gazes said they were paying too much attention to the crowds than they usually would, almost as if they were looking for _someone._

Her stomach knotted and twisted at the thought, and it took all of her willpower not to run back to the safety of the library.

 _I am not a coward, I don't run. Besides running will only catch their eye. Act normal, continue on and do nothing that will draw their eye._

With a firm mental shake Holly stepped forward into the crowds, ensuring she walked at an average pace, occasionally stopping to look at the wares but never lingering for longer than a moment. She was aware of where the Snatchers were at all times along with the Watch, in the dark green uniforms and red and black armbands, they were easy enough to spot.

Mentally she counted them.

 _One...two, three...four...five...six, seven, eight...nine...ten._

A noticeable increase and one that was certainly going to get tongues wagging. The jewels stashed away in a pouch in one of the many hidden pockets suddenly felt hot and weighty and silently she prayed to whichever God was listening, that she would remain invisible as she worked her way through the Market.

She plunged into the winding streets and familiar alleys of the Warren, grateful when she had left the Market and the watchful eyes, though even here she could still see members of the Watch and one or two Snatchers.

Not that she had much to worry about here, she knew the Warren better than they did and Holly knew she would easily be able to lose the Watch should she need to.

There were no such things as a straight road in the Warren, at least not for long. Perhaps before the War, they had been straighter, but time had changed that, and the Warren had built on and around those straight roads. Each street made its way around the corners of the buildings that shaped it, shifting first one way, then another. Smaller alleys made full turns at what first appeared to be dead ends, descending side stairs and passing through buildings that had grown up over the alley itself.

At the Arch, a milestone named after the walkway that rose above the alley joining two buildings, Holly turned another corner and nodded to the two men chatting in a doorway. They hesitated a moment before nodding back. They recognised her as a customer to their master, but they didn't know her which meant they didn't trust her.

She couldn't fault them, the trust could get you killed, 'friend' didn't mean loyalty and it certainly wouldn't stop someone betraying you should it benefit them. Betrayal had nothing to do with friendship; it was a mere fact of survival. Life was harsh on the streets, especially for a muggle, and if a Muggle thief wanted to keep from being caught and executed, he had to be practical.

And ruthlessness was the very most practical of emotions.

Their master was a ruthless and paranoid man.

He was also the best fence in the Warren, and a thief was only as good as their fence.

She continued walking down the alley, turning yet again at the end until she came to the front door of a shop. Nestled neatly into the side of a towering building it looked nondescript from the outside, and yet hidden inside was a gem that most people would give their right arm for.

She pushed through the door, causing a series of bones to rattle together and stepped inside.

Shelves filled the store, stretching from wall to wall and front to back. Housing anything from jewellery to musical instruments and everything in between. Metal racks full or books, maps and film posters and other objects pre-war. A lost time gathered in one place.

It was from this store that Holly had learned about things that she would have otherwise never have known about, such as Eden Blyton books, Lord of the Rings and much more.

A few times the owner had taken pity on her in the winter months and allowed her to stay in the warmth of the shop reading books she would never likely to see again.

It was a guilty pleasure of hers this shop and was where she had first heard of America. Almost as if it was calling to her she glanced at the large map hanging on one of the far walls. A land of freedom for muggles, or so the stories said. Their Wizardkind treated them with respect and hardly interfered with their day to day lives.

It was hard to imagine.

She wasn't sure she could ever picture Wizardkind being anything but the cruel overlords of them all.

 _They are not gods._

And they weren't despite what some people believed.

Holly walked down the central aisle all the way to the back of the shop, where she could hear raised voices. She spotted the owner instantly, a tall, muscular man with pale skin and black hair leaning against the counter. A shorter man stood the opposite side of the counter, dressed in a long overcoat; he was nondescript in every way with, dark brown hair shot through with silver.

She waited at the end of the aisle, giving the illusion of privacy and yet still being plainly visible.

She couldn't quite hear what they were saying but dared not get any closer. The last thing she wanted was to stick her nose in any more business that didn't involve her, or have someone think she was sticking her nose where it didn't belong.

She felt the tiniest pressure on her waist, Holly spun, acting on instinct. She grabbed the hand foolish enough to grab her, squeezing tight so the little imp wouldn't be able to run away, surprised she found herself staring up at a smirking face.

Will.

"You're getting faster," he chuckled shaking off her grip with ease.

"Or you're getting slower," she teased, knowing that it was more likely he let her grab his hand. A lazy thief was a dead thief.

"You didn't check your environment, too busy ogling the goods. Too easy to sneak up on," he stated.

"I knew you were there, and I wasn't ogling."

He smiled at her, the annoying kind of smile that told her he knew she was lying.

She studied him.

He was wearing a new long coat with threads dangling where it had been cut short and was probably loaded with a collection of picks, knives, trinkets and sweets hidden in pockets and pouches within the lining.

He was taller and older than her and had been working both on the streets and for her fence as long as she had known him. Dark brown eyes glistened with amusement as he looked at her. Whatever the situation he was always smiling, always happy. To a small degree she liked him, but like didn't mean trust.

"Curious to find out what they are saying?" he asked.

"It's not my business."

"Since when has that ever stopped curiosity."

"It's kept me alive," she argued.

He snorted, "Pish posh, curiosity keeps you young."

"It also gets you dead, haven't you ever heard about the cat?"

He ignored her, though, as he was prone to do, and studied the two men before him.

"Boss man is saying 'it's a fool's quest and is only going to get people killed'."

"You lip read?"

He turned to look at her, his smile splitting into a wide grin.

"Nah, I already know what they are talking about."

"You're a bastard do you know that."

"Sticks and stones, Snow, sticks and stones," he chuckled before walking towards the counter.

Feeling foolish Holly realised she had no choice but to follow after him. A few words reaching her ears, 'more and more people are going missing', and 'we need to act now' before the two men stopped talking.

She could see the anger radiating off both men, but neither of them said anything else to each other.

Jimmy turned towards her, his expression somewhat strained, as if he would rather not be having this conversation.

The owner of the shop, Jimmy was the best fence in the Warren.

They had come to a relatively straightforward working relationship that involved neither one of them asking questions and Jimmy not ripping her off too much.

"Snow," he greeted somewhat warmly, though she could still hear the bite in his tone.

Whatever he had been discussing had put Jimmy on edge.

"I can come back," she said.

"No, my business here is finished," Jimmy answered before turning to stare at the other man.

The man nodded once before walking away from the counter and out of the shop.

"Intense boss, intense," Will whistled.

"William!" Jimmy warned.

Will held his hands up in a show of surrender before going back doing whatever he had been doing earlier.

"I do wonder why I put up with that boy," Jimmy muttered, before turning his attention back to her.

For a split second Holly almost felt like she wanted to run and hide from his gaze. As if he was staring into her soul and weighing her up. She didn't know what he saw when he looked at her, and in truth, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"What do you have for me today Snow?"

Holly reached for the small pouch of stolen goods and placed them on the counter. Jimmy picked up the necklace and examined each of the rubies and diamonds, she knew they were real but as he studied each one and the seconds ticked by Holly couldn't help but feel that maybe there were fake and not real.

"I'm not going to ask where you got them from," he murmured, "but they are in perfect condition."

Jimmy put the necklace back into the pouch and tightened the strings, before moving to the cash register and opened the drawer.

"And now for payment, I can offer you twenty-five gold Galleons," he stated.

Holly snorted.

" _I know,_ they are worth more than that."

"Fifty."

She looked at him, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly.

He sighed, "Be reasonable Snow, I have to make a profit selling them on,"

"I am reasonable; I know perfectly well you have connections in the Alleys, you will sell them on to there and eventually they will get flushed through to be placed on some lovely witch's neck."

"I thought we agreed to no questions."

"It wasn't a question it was a statement," she answered back.

"One hundred."

"Four hundred."

He laughed, "You must be joking, one fifty."

"Three fifty."

"One seventy-five."

"Three fifty."

He threw his hands in the air, "Fine two seventy-five and that is the best I can do, take it or leave it."

"Done."

"Done."

They shook on it.

"I presume you want the usual deal?"

Holly nodded once. Besides fencing her goods, Jimmy offered another service that Holly had taken him up on. Allowing her the option to save as much as she liked while still having money in her pocket. It was a good system and one that had replaced the muggle banks that had crashed after the war. _Along with the muggle currency,_ she mused silently.

"How much do you want now?"

"Five Galleons," she smiled.

He threw her a sour look, but she knew it was all in good nature.

"How much do I have so far?"

"Ninety-five, add today's and you will have three hundred and sixty-five."

"Is it enough?" she asked.

He looked at her, "I would have to let you know on that one."

He shook his head at her, before counting out five Galleons, splitting two of them into Knuts and Sickles, so she had smaller change. It wasn't often Muggles were able to earn enough for a Galleon and would be far too suspicious if she had five on her person.

A hand touched her shoulder, Holly whipped around quickly only to come face to face with Will. He was panting hard.

"The Watch!"

Jimmy sprung into action. Instantly grabbing things and tucking them into various hiding places. He threw a bag of coins at her which Holly just managed to catch.

"Take her out of the back and make sure that door is locked," he barked at Will before swiping up the pouch of jewels and tucking them into a false wall behind the counter.

Will grabbed her hand and dragged her behind him. He was bigger and stronger than her, and all she could do was keeping up with his pace. Will took her further into the shop than she had ever been before, before turning sharply to the left. He spun her around until she was in front of him and shoved her through the open door, shutting it firmly behind him and sliding the lock into place.

He took her hand again and led her down a flight of stairs. It was pitch black, and while she was used to the darkness in the library, she didn't know where she was or where she was going. It made her whole body tense up.

"Will," she hissed out between her clenched teeth.

"Quiet," he snapped at her, "they will still be able to hear us if you are too loud, we aren't safe yet."

He let go of her hand as soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Holly paused, straining her ears to listen. She couldn't hear anything but the heavy breathing of Will and the sound of something groaning under protest as it moved. Holly took a breath and held it. She knew Jimmy and Will, but she didn't trust them. Being left in the darkness with no idea what was going on or why she had to go the back way or that there was even a back way, which seemed to still be in the shop, made her skin prickle and her stomach turn.

 _Be ready for anything_ , her mind cautioned.

A hand gripped hers again, and it took all her willpower not to scream out in surprise.

"It's just me," Will whispered, almost as if he had read her mind, "take these when I say I want you to crack them."

She frowned, not that Will would be able to see, but took the items without asking.

A few moments later she heard a soft crack and a warm white light appeared out of nowhere.

She blinked in surprise.

It glowed in Will's hands lighting up his face, though it barely broke through the darkness that surrounded them.

"Magic?" she breathed.

"No," he chuckled quietly, "a little left over trick. Come on."

He guided her a few steps forward until she could see a hole in the ground.

"Okay Snow, I want you to crack the glow sticks I have given you. Tie one of them around your wrist so you will be able to see the ladder and drop the other one to the floor," he instructed, "It isn't far to climb down, but I don't think you will be too comfortable doing it in the dark."

"Not unless you want me to crash to the floor. Darkness is fine, bad eyesight not so much," Holly muttered.

Will gave a soft snort in agreement but didn't say anything else.

Taking a breath, Holly cracked the glow sticks in her hand, dropped one down the hole where she could just see the faint glow of light before tying the other to her wrist. Sitting on the floor, she dangled her feet over the edge of the hole until she could feel the ladder under them and lowered herself slowly further down. Pausing only for a moment to shift one hand from the side of the hole to grip the top of the ladder.

Heights and climbing had never really bothered her, but usually, she had at least a little more light than what the glow sticks offered.

She climbed down, jumping a little at the bottom grateful when her feet firmly touched the ground. Swiping up the other glow stick she looked around quickly as she waited for Will to close up behind him and reach the bottom.

It looked as if they were below ground.

 _Sewers?_ She absently thought until she stumbled over something, looking down it looked to be an old rail track.

 _Son of a bitch,_ she mentally swore. It was the Underground. The Underground was right under Jimmy's shop or at least part of it.

As soon as Will reached the bottom, she turned on him.

"Where the hell are we?"

"London Underground, or rather what used to be it, I think it's the City and South London line, but I can't be too sure. Lots of changes and what not above ground."

"Underground as in Underground?"

He shrugged, "Some of it. You know it's hush, hush and I'm just the runner boy, I do know Jimmy has gotten a few people out of the city when there had been a need, but it's higher up than him."

"What the hell is going on Will? Since when do the Watch come sniffing around at Jimmy's? Since when has Jimmy been that concerned?"

Will sighed, "Come on, we can walk and talk. Need to get above ground soon, and I would rather do it before anyone else finds us down here. You know they call it the thief's highway rather than the actual underground."

She followed behind him as they moved away from the manhole and further down the tracks that had once been a commodity of travelling through London. Of course, that had been pre-empire.

"Are you going to answer me then?"

"It's complicated Snow; you've always kept to yourself especially these last two months, I'm not sure if you have noticed or not but things have gotten strange on the streets. People have been disappearing more frequently, there has been an increase of Snatchers and the Watch," Will answered.

"How bad has it gotten?"

"You remember little Sally?"

"The flower girl?" Holly frowned, trying to recall the girl; she couldn't have been much older than five selling flowers every day at the market.

"Yeah, well last week the Snatchers took her."

"For what?"

"No idea, one minute she was selling flowers and the next two brutes are picking her up and cursing anyone that gets in their way. I swear two or three people must have got hit by some spells."

"And it's not just that," he continued, "there have been more and more raids than usual. Jimmy has been fined three times in the last month alone; it's almost as if their tolerance has disappeared."

"Something must be causing it," she stated softly. It hadn't been a question, but in true Will fashion, he answered it anyway.

"There have been whispers."

"Of?"

"The resistance."

She snorted, "There hasn't been any sign of resistance for years. The rebel cause died the year after the fall. We have no spirit left to fight."

"It's called underground for a reason Snow. There are those that still have enough spirit and desire in them to be free from our chains."

"I will believe it when I see it."

"You just have to have faith," Will laughed.

Holly chuckled, "I never took you for an optimist."

"Only on Tuesdays."

"I know I don't keep track so much, but I'm pretty sure it's Wednesday today," she smiled, though that he wouldn't be able to see it.

"Well fancy that then," he said with a whistle. "Come on we haven't got much further."

He guided her onward until they reached another ladder, Will climbed up first, lighting the way. Holly followed suit and was more than grateful when she saw sunlight again and could smell the fresh air. _Or as fresh as one can get in the Warren,_ she added. Though it was still far fresher than the Underground had been. Still and stale, closed off for too many years with only the smallest breeze ever reaching it.

She blinked through the blinding rays before looking around. From what she could guess they were at the very least five streets away from Jimmy's store. She could hear the chattering crowds echoing down the alley from the main street.

"Not much further from here to the safe house. We can wait it out until Jimmy comes."

She hesitated, she was grateful for Will getting her out of a situation that would have been more than tricky but now that they were out in the open she felt that they needed to go their separate ways.

"I shouldn't..." she trailed off the sentence, allowing Will to hear her unspoken words.

He looked at her, his eyes not hiding the disappointment, but he said nothing. He just nodded once.

They walked to the end of the alley together; Holly turned to face Will to wish him luck when she was stopped abruptly by a deep tolling sound.

A bell rang.

Inwardly Holly groaned, as it was followed by another and then another.

Silence fell through the streets.

Holly counted thirteen in total.

Thirteen rings to summon.

Thirteen strokes to signal death.

"The Death Knell," she whispered, her eyes widening as she looked at Will. _Of all the days to forget._

Holly glanced around; already the stalls were closing up for the day early and people started moving in the direction of North. They would cross the River Thames and slowly make their way towards the arena. Attending the Purge was mandatory unless you were considered an 'essential labourer' or a servant to a wizarding family. Usually, she had gotten out of it by not being on the streets, but her hunger had overruled today of all days.

If Snatchers found muggles on the streets today without a pass, the consequences were better left to the imagination. _Or nightmares._

"Come on, we need to blend in. They have already spotted us lingering."

Holly looked in the direction Will had indicated and saw two Snatchers heading in their direction.

She reached for Will's hand and followed him into the sea of people, falling into step and blending in as if she had always been there.

"We can try and slip away before we get to the bridge. Get to a safe house." He whispered.

She didn't respond, her eyes never leaving the Snatchers urging people along with more force than was necessary _sadistic bastards._

* * *

The crowds grew thicker the further along they travelled, and the increase of Snatchers made it nigh impossible to slip away.

Holly was more than grateful for Will, though she would never voice it.

The arena was now a forbidden shadow that grew in size the closer they got to it. Officially called the Tower - and not so fondly named Purgatory, Holly couldn't stop but wonder how it achieved such a name. Often screams echoed within its walls.

Holly shuddered at the thought.

"Nothing for it," Will muttered, breaking her trail thoughts, "we are going to have to endure the Purge."

"I guess so."

The crowd slowly spilt out of the street into a large paved area just before the bridge. Once upon a time it had been a bridge allowing traffic to follow back and forth between North and South London.

Now, now it was something else entirely.

Referred to as the 'Walk of Punishment', it was the only entrance from the Warren into the arena, decorated with bodies of the dead.

Holly had seen her fair share of cruel things, both living in the Warren and before. She was no stranger to violence but even, so there was something about the way the bodies lined the walls that made her stomach turn.

"Don't look," Will whispered.

Holly looked at him. His dark brown eyes looking straight at her. She gave one firm nod and turned her eyes from the corpses and focused instead on the shuffling crowds around her and the deepening shadows around them of the growing walls.

Her thoughts drifting to how the Purge started.

Everybody knew the story.

A year after the conquest the last remaining members of the British army gathered together. With weapons they had managed to hide over the year they took to the streets and fought back.

But even so, they had no weapon to use against magic.

They were captured and executed.

And with them, the last remaining flicker of hope died.

So pleased with the outcome the Emperor ruled that every year on the anniversary of his Victory a Purge of criminals should be held.

Publicly.

A few steps further and they were walking through the arched entrance and into the arena. Built eight years ago, the arena was easily one of the largest structures in London. Wizards and the Watch were everywhere. Their eyes watching the crowd for any sign of danger.

Inside the open-topped arena, there were rows upon rows of long concrete benches climbing towards the sky. Already seated in one section muggles were starting to move along the rows and seat themselves.

Straight in front of her lay a raised platform.

 _The execution platform_ , she thought, her eyes glancing around.

She felt her confidence slip away and she desperately wanted to hide but found herself unable to move. On either side of the platform, there stood two erect seating areas, already full to the brim of brightly dressed people.

 _Wizards and witches._ Her mind corrected for her.

She found she couldn't look away.

Less than twenty paces away stood a row of wizards on the platform.

Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly.

Most of them wore a uniform on the platform. Wide-sleeved robes bound by a sash at the waist. The emblem of the Empire on their chest. These weren't ordinary wizards, they were battle wizards. While her knowledge of them was non-existent, even she could tell the regular from the soldiers apart.

They were all men. From her position, she could see nine of them, all but one of them standing in pairs. Some looked young, while others looked ancient. But it was the lone wizard that drew her attention.

No matter how much she didn't want to, she found herself observing him.

He was a dark-haired man. Tall with a medium build. She supposed he was handsome, in a sleek, well-groomed way. But it wasn't his looks that drew her attention to him. There was something about him, underneath the surface. The way he held himself, the very air around him sung and she felt the vibrations running down her spine. Her instincts screamed predator, dangerous and powerful.

Even as Will pulled her along, she found she couldn't look away. She didn't want to.

"Sit down!" Will hissed at her.

She looked at him, just as silence seemed to settle over the arena, and Holly sat down quickly just as people started to move on the platform.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Tom Riddle watched the Aurors drag the sobbing men and women to the raised platform. He felt no sympathy for the condemned...m _uggle criminals_ who had dared to oppose their place in the new world. In the Empire empathy was a luxury no one could afford, and it was an emotion he stripped himself of a long time ago.

"Pathetic aren't they?"

Tom turned to face the man that spoke. Cornelius Fudge, a portly little man with rumpled grey hair. Today he was dressed in his finest pinstriped suit and scarlet tie. The ever-present lime green bowler hat sat comfortably on his head. In Tom's opinion, he looked ridiculous. But it still didn't hurt to be polite, no matter how much he wished to crush the man beside him into a thousand little pieces. He was a patient man. One day soon he would, but not today.

"They are afraid," he replied, his tone void of emotion.

"Quite right, quite right. They have broken the Emperor's laws, they fear their punishment," Fudge agreed.

"They fear death," he answered.

"You would think though the _Muggles_ would learn by now. Perhaps we are too lenient with them," Fudge continued on.

"And just what would the Minister Adjunct suggest instead?" he asked, a small smirk of amusement crossing his lips.

Fudge was a weak man, somewhat greedy and addicted to his own position and power. It was exactly for that reason Gellert Grindelwald the Dark Emperor had appointed him Minister Adjunct of the territory of Britain and Northern Ireland. While ambitious he lacked the backbone to seek more power and risk his power base already. As the British Voice of the Emperor, he was _politically_ one of the most influential men in Britain. His word was law.

No matter how much that thought irked him, Tom couldn't deny that.

He had more say _politically_ in Britain than Tom did, despite Tom being the Emperor's heir. And while Fudge did everything he could to appease him and did listen to some of his suggestions if the man felt they diverted too much, put _him_ at too much at risk of losing his position he quickly shot the ideas down. And no matter how much Tom may want to, he couldn't afford to kill him... _yet._ After all, Gellert would instantly suspect him, and while they both matched on the scale of power Tom wasn't quite ready to upset the balance of power yet. Not when he was at a disadvantage.

After all, heir or no heir he was only Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"What do you think Tom?" Fudge asked, Tom mentally cursed himself for not paying close attention to what the man had been saying, while he had been lost in thought.

"Perhaps you should bring it to the attention of the Emperor at the next meeting, Minister Adjunct," he replied smoothly, mentally noting he would need his spies to sniff out any and all new proposals the Minister would possibly suggest. Patience did not mean he could become soft or careless. The wolves were already circling.

He turned his attention back to the crowds and watched them silently as they started to gather in the square.

Witches, Wizards and Muggles.

It didn't matter, the execution was compulsory to attend.

His eyes glanced over the muggles in disgust.

Despite their subdued nature they still chattered away, solemnly perhaps, but still, they talked amongst themselves he supposed some people could not bear waiting, and the useless chatter seemed to soothe their nerves.

A hushed silence fell over the crowds as Fudge stepped forward "Ladies and gentlemen, my fellow Witches and Wizards..."

His words carried across the square, despite his faults Fudge knew how to speak to the crowd, he just didn't have the right charm to him to stir the masses.

"...and Muggles. Today we celebrate the tenth anniversary of our esteemed Emperor's reign."

"Our world was dying. Slowly from a festering wound that had been allowed to scab over by our denial of our divided shared history of strife. An injury-filled with millennia of hatred, rage, envy, ignorance and fear. But like all festering wounds it spread slowly eating at our hearts and souls. We cowered in fear as we watched our homes and communities destroyed by the calculated blows of those sworn to protect us. We watched as hatred and fear and ignorance led to bloodshed of the unknown, the different and the unacceptable," Fudge paused, his smiling face glancing around the crowds.

"War! Death! Pestilence! Famine! Tore through our world until all that was left was chaos and darkness. But out of the darkness, a man rose with a dream. A dream of a better world. He dared to challenge when others remained silent. He was a beacon of hope and a better world."

Thousands of witches and wizards erupted with cheers as they praised the Emperor. "For the Greater Good!" Tom glanced through the crowds if any remained silent in disagreement it would be impossible to see. Gellert was always concerned with any form of rebellion, even one as passive as not chanting his name or slogan in praise. His eyes glanced quickly over the muggles, some of them cheered in agreement, but most of them remained silent, no matter how fancy Fudge spun it they knew that the harsh reality of the new world meant they were second class. Better than slaves to a degree maybe, but still so low down on the food chain that they hardly mattered. They had been oppressed. United - never. No muggle would ever hold a position of power again. And while Grindelwald had allowed them to keep their cultural beliefs and religions the hope and faith in them had dwindled. While the majority had accepted the new way of life, there was still the few odd pockets over the years that grumbled enough to cause concern, some still had a fire in their hearts and the spirit to fight. Bristling and pushing back in their own small way, rather than open rebellion.

 _Though there are whispers..._ whispers stirring throughout the Empire of rebellion.

"It saddens me greatly, though, that even now in this new world, that there are some who would still wish to oppose us. Those who would dare to rise up against the Empire and the Emperor in violence. That they would dare to rebel." Here, his voice became a passionate anger that punctuated every word. An angry growl rippled through the crowds in response. Even the muggles. But then they weren't stupid, they would all suffer for any act of rebellion. They were quick to turn on their own.

"The men and women you see before you today are those who dare to break the laws of the Empire," Fudge's voice had grown sombre as if he really didn't want to pass this judgement as if it saddened him greatly. Tom knew it was a lie. They may have been little more than thieves than any real rebels, but they had threatened his power base, and that was an unforgivable sin, it meant that they had to die.

"They have been judged, and they have been found wanting. There is only one punishment fit for those who would wish to throw our world back into the shadows of chaos. As the power invested in me as Minister Adjunct Voice of the Emperor for the crime of treason, I do hereby sentence you to death."

The crowds erupted with cheers of agreement, cheers for blood and justice rippled through the air; it was hard to distinguish who had the loudest voice. Though underneath there was a level of anger, grumbles of disagreement.

It made him weary.

A drum roll echoed through the arena as the executioner ascended one step at a time.

He had heard it before he saw it, like a strange kind of thunder, a distant calling.

Four rumbles rang out, paired with four bright flashes.

And then he was being pushed to the floor with more force than he had ever felt before.

* * *

XXX

* * *

The arena shook under the pressure of the explosion and the force that had followed pushed her back on the bench behind her.

Chaos spread like wildfire, as muggles scrambled over each other to escape. The stampeding sound of feet surrounded her. Holly could see wizards and witches alike disappearing in black smoke as they escaped. Others she could see were already attempting damage control.

She pushed herself to her feet, aware of blood dripping down her face and a flare of pain in her arm, the injury she had received not fully healed.

Her ears were ringing, loudly, and her vision seemed blurred as she blinked back the tears. She could hear screaming, but it sounded as if it was miles away.

She searched for Will, but amidst all the confusion his face was lost to her.

A blaze of fire erupted from the crowd curling through the air like a flaming snake. It roared overhead consuming all in its paths.

The smell of burning drifted to her nose. Holly turned to see a figure sprawled face down on the bench below her. The flames ate at the clothing hungrily, the figure lay still. She could see the blackened mess that had once been an arm and her stomach twisted with nausea.

With an earth-shattering noise, the foundations of the stand started to pull apart, metal stands and wood cracking and spiking away from its frame as the flaming snake slowly began to eat away at them. A slight change in balance and the whole stand lurched. People squawked and scrabbled around her. She watched in silent fascination as the stand slowly started to dissolve before her very eyes.

Her whole body shook as the ground moved beneath her feet, the concrete creaking and groaning under the weight. Whatever this was, it was more than just an attack, more than just a show of rebellion, this was an act of war. At this point in time, Holly couldn't quite bring her mind to comprehend exactly what that would mean.

Another lurch of the stands threw people forward, she was only briefly aware of a body smacking into her own before she lurched forward and over the heads of the individuals in front of her.

She was falling.

And all she could see as she was falling was the raging fire below her rising up to meet her, the fire that seemed to be eating everything in its path and leaving nothing behind other than charcoal.

 _I'm going to die._

She knew it in her heart, in a matter of seconds she would be engulfed in flames and be slowly eaten alive.

Something flipped over in Holly's belly. She didn't have time to understand it, but she could feel it. Something burned hot deep inside of her. A swell of emotions overwhelming her and something stirring deep inside her chest, it seemed to ripple through her veins with every beat of her heart, slowly spreading as she fell as if rising to her desire of not wanting to die, pressure was building like something was looking for a way out of her.

Before she could focus on it anymore, she was passing through the fire. The fire engulfed her, her clothes burning and smoking. A roaring sound filled her ears, whether the crackling fire or just white noise Holly couldn't determine. Her skin tingled and itched, and for a brief moment, it felt as if she was floating before something exploded out of her.

Like electricity was running through her body and lighting her up from the inside out.

She felt alive. Like she had been living her whole life blind, and she had only just opened her eyes then. Something moved beneath her skin, but it is neither fire nor electricity. It was energy force that lived inside of her that she had never known was there. She felt a seed of wonder bloom to life inside of her and despite the fear she couldn't help but laugh.

It was exhilarating.

She looked at her hands and arms, marvelling at the fire as it glides over her. Clothes burnt away but her skin remained unchanged.

 _I should be in pain, but I'm not._

It was _magic_.

And just as the thought had entered her mind she had passed through the fire and landed in a pile on the ground not covered by jagged metal. Her clothes were barely holding together in a charred mess. She felt weak and bruised, but she was so very aware of eyes upon her. Amongst the chaos and blood and fire and screams, she could still feel eyes on her.

She looked up weakly to the place the platform had once been. Now all that remained was splintered shattered mess of wood and stone, but there standing up was the lone wizard she had seen early. Eyes that seemed to glow red as they looked at her.

Cold rushed through her.

She had just done magic.

She had just broken one of the most sacred laws.

 _It isn't possible, you are a muggle, not a Wizardkind, you don't have magic._

And yet how else did she survive. How else did she pass through the flames unscarred? She had felt something, stir inside her, something she had never felt before...something that had made her feel alive.

 _Was that magic?_

 _RUN! Worry about it later, run now!_

Using what little energy she had left she pushed herself to her feet and ran towards the scurrying crowds.

"STOP HER!" a roar filled her ears, and she could see Wizards attempting to intercept her.

She pushed forward, using her elbows to make her way through the crowds.

Her vision wavered as several quick flashes of light lit the faces before her, then more screams tore through the air. Something hit her in the back, heat rushed over her, and she fell to her knees, gasping. She couldn't move. She attempted to push herself up but found her body unable to follow her command. She was frozen and helpless, and she felt a surge of terror.

She was helpless, completely helpless and she hated it.

Hands grabbed her roughly from behind, she was powerless to stop them. They turned her around, and she found herself staring up at the red eyes of the wizard.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3: - **Dark Discussions**

Tom Riddle had long since come to accept that Wizardkind as a whole despised anything that disrupted their neatly ordered lives.

As the green flames flared to life around him, he appeared within the fireplace in the heart of the British Government. He had entered the Atrium countless times since graduating and while it usually held an energetic buzz of human life as many witches and wizards went about their daily business going and fearing he had rarely heard it echo with so much anger.

Even on this day, so many years ago when Gellert Grindelwald had stood at its centre victorious over those that had dared defy him for so long. No, on that day the crowds had been a sombre, more subdued gathering as they waited to hear what their fate would be.

Silently, he cast a spell ridding him of any sort of that particular method of travelling and stepped out of the fireplace into the mass of people.

He regarded the sea of robed men and women before him. Circles of witches and wizards had formed, and he noted the usual cliques and factions. Others roamed about, leaving one circle and joining another. Hands flashed in expressive gestures, and the occasional exclamation or denial rose above the din.

He reeled off the names mentally as he passed the familiar faces. Not all of them were allies; most were foes. Those that did notice him bowed respectfully enough that he wouldn't be able to call them out on it but most were too engrossed in their own worries and concerns about the day's events. Troubled by what such an attack could mean or whether more would come.

Nobody had had to worry about the thought of this kind of violence in such a long time that they had perhaps almost forgotten that they had once been at war for nearly four decades. It made him wonder just how much of their spirit had been broken, or whether they had simply accepted what fate had thrown them, happy to be alive and continue on with their lives without thinking too much about what they had lost.

Perhaps if he thought about it long enough, he could admire the determination, but he wasn't often thinking about things that held little importance to him.

Amongst the chaos, he could clearly see the Ministry officials. Assistants directing people to various make-shift medical areas. Catering staff providing food, and hot drinks. Aurors dealing with any security concerns or missing people enquiries.

The attack on the arena had left nothing but confusion and hysteria.

As he passed, he caught fragments of conversations which seemed to emanate from the roof. It didn't take a genius to understand the topic of discussion; the day's events were on everyone's tongue and would be for some time.

He listened, carefully, judging the mood of the people in the room, their opinions. Some more heated than others.

A tall, slender, silk black-robed figure stepped out of the crowd and strode towards him, he watched carefully.

"My Lord," Lucius Malfoy greeted, his head bowed just low enough to be respectable but not too low to lose his dignity. It always amused him how far Malfoy would go to please him while trying to remain as dignified and as relevant as he presumed he was.

"Lucius," he nodded in return.

"The Cabinet isn't being gathered?"

"It would appear not. I am attending a private meeting with the Minister and the Heads of Magical Law Enforcement. Perhaps the Minister wants to know more information before conveying them to the Cabinet," he answered. "General mood of the crowds?"

"Anger. Disgust. What you would expect under the circumstances. People are afraid; they do not understand who would do such a thing. Some are even going as far as to whisper that the Americans are responsible and that it will mean war."

"They signed the Pact over ten years ago Lucius. They are in no position to start a war. Besides they would not attack the arena, they would attack elsewhere."

"Of course," Lucius agreed.

"What else?"

"Rebellion. Though some argue that it is to be expected considering how we treat the muggles." He continued the disgust in his voice was evidently towards the sympathisers. "Others say it is something else, though."

"Speculation on everyone's part. And everyone is none the wiser," Riddle replied

"Is there any way to find out?"

"I am sure that it is on the Minster's mind and that he will do everything in his power to find those responsible and punish them accordingly."

"I will make enquiries," Lucius said, it wasn't a question but it had been worded in a way that gave Tom the power to say yes or no. Lucius was subtle, but he wasn't that subtle. He was asking _silently_ , do you want me to investigate or prevent the investigation. Are you responsible?

He wasn't. While he was putting his plans into motion, an outward attack would only put everyone on edge. Something _he_ didn't want. Though he supposed, he could use it to his advantage if he had to.

"Make enquiries, quietly and discreetly, I want to know as soon as you do Lucius, anything is better than nothing."

Lucius bowed, "As you wish My Lord. And what of the girl?"

"Not your concern," he stated. Leaving no room for further discussion into that particular direction. He had a suspicion that the unsuspected muggle-born was the girl he had been looking for, discreetly, of course, the girl who had seen too much but held too much potential to simply get rid of.

"Now if you will excuse me, I must make my way to the Minister's office."

"Of course my Lord. I will gather what information I can."

"See that you do."

He left Lucius to the crowds and walked through the corridors to the lifts. From there he would be able to make his way towards the Minister's office.

 _Caution, you have much to do and very little time to do it._

* * *

He entered the Minister Adjunct's office without knocking, his eyes sweeping the room; he had rarely seen it so cramped with people before.

"Forgive me for being late," he greeted smoothly, already putting in place the mask he would need for this particular dance. He noted who bowed in the room and who gave barely more than a respectable nod, before taking his place. He had neither friends nor allies in this room. They may serve and respect him because of his connection to the Emperor, but they weren't _his._

"Forgive Lord Riddle, since when have you ever asked for forgiveness?" Madam Bones smiled, though he noted her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

In fact, all she held in her eyes as she looked at him was loathing, though she hid it far better than most did. He had faced her more times than most on the battlefield during the war, the fact she survived was a clear indicator she was a formidable witch. The fact she had maintained both her position and her clout after the war also showed she played the game well.

But then that had been one of Grindelwald's weapons, those who fought against him were welcomed with open arms into the upper echelons of his Empire, they were gifted with life and second chances and most often they took them. She had probably taken this position in hope to fight the system from within.

Ten years later only _she_ would be able to tell herself comforting lies about how successful she had been or not. Though Riddle supposed regardless of her stance, Bones was a fair and justice person and treated all within the law fairly. It was such a shame that the Heads of the departments below her did not share the same philosophy.

"Never, Madam Bones. I sleep well at night and have no need for forgiveness, nor desire for it."

The man sitting next to her snorted, Tom turned to look at him; the man met his gaze without flinching. Rufus Scrimgeair was a hardened battle wizard who had long lost his naivety. Equally formidable both on the battlefield and off the field. He had a strong set of values and believed in the _law_. He believed that no one should be held above the law, even those that had the power to crush him with a mere thought should he even attempt to hold them accountable for their actions.

As the Head of the Aurors' office, he was perhaps the only Head of the legal departments that actually supported Bones. Together they had indeed thrown barriers in his way, but they were little more than lambs surrounded by wolves. _They have teeth, so dogs would be more appropriate than lambs._ Shadows behind them shifted drawing his eye to the two Aurors that stood on guard behind their Heads. Frank Longbottom and Kingsley Shacklebolt, both were powerful wizards in their own right.

"Hem-hem."

Tom turned from the Aurors towards the woman sitting next to Fudge. She was wearing a bottle green tweed suit with a fuzzy pink cardigan. Her large flabby face was looking directly at him, her wide, slack mouth smiling or at the least its version of a smile. He detested her on sight, right down to the black velvet bow that tied up her mousy brown hair.

"Senior Undersecretary," he smiled, mockingly. "How lovely you look this evening."

The woman blushed ever so slightly with a squeak that made him cringe, before turning her brown eyes firmly back onto him.

Dolores Umbridge only had one passion - Minister Adjunct Fudge. It was painfully obvious that she was in love with him, though Fudge seemed oblivious of the fact. Love had never been an emotion or concept he had truly ever understood of experienced he knew it was a weakness that _he_ could exploit in others. And while Fudge was oblivious of his Undersecretary's affection Mrs Fudge wasn't, and that was something he could use to his advantage. A word here and a word there and in truth, other people would do the work for him in destroying Minister Adjunct Fudge.

 _When the time is right._

"My Lord Riddle, we do rather have important matters to discuss this evening. The Minister simply does not have time to watch you exchange taunts with those who serve," she answered, her voice crisp and high pitched that it almost sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Not to mention the condescending tone she spoke to him and referring to the others in. As if they were nothing but dirt on the floor.

It amused him, picturing her death. He would kill her slowly and painfully, and he would enjoy every second of it. Though for the moment, he could silently admit _she_ had her uses as few as they were.

He flashed her a smile, "Forgive me Madam Umbridge, you are right of course. Thank you for reminding me of the important matters at hand, I would not wish to delay the Minister any more than I already have."

He could hear the fake coughs and sniggering of some of the others in the room but chose to ignore them. Umbridge shot the others a dirty look but remained silent.

"I do believe your teasing my Undersecretary Tom," Fudge commented,

"Only a little. I secretly want to steal her away from you Minister. She is so efficient at her job I just can't help myself," he laughed.

Fudge coughed, clearing his throat as he shifted in his seat. A clear sign that the man was getting flustered and uncomfortable of that trail of thought.

 _So quickly stirred Minister, so easy to read._

"Dolores is quite right, we have much to discuss. What do we know about the attack?"

"Four magically infused PWM's were set off within the arena."

"PWM's?" Fudge asked

"Panzerwurfmine grenades, the Thule Society were working on them with the Lord Emperor's Wizards in the early days of the war with the Nazis. The Emperor ordered they all be destroyed after the Nazi army was disbanded and formed into the personal guard and security officers," Tom supplied, "Clearly some of the leftovers weren't destroyed as was reported."

"Their destructive capabilities were exactly how the books said they were. The explosion obliterates the central area of the target unleashing the magic to finish off the rest. The wild magic eating away at everything in sight. If we had been unable to contain the wild magic, then it would have taken half of North London before the day ended," Bones added.

"The suspect?"

"Male, late fifties early sixties. The suspect is dead, but the remains are currently being examined, or rather what is left. It will be difficult to identify the culprit as there is little left of him."

"Wizard or Muggle?"

"Again, unknown at this given time. PWM's can easily be activated by muggles. The magic is already stored in them; it is the explosion that triggers the release. Other than what is written in the history books and witnesses first-hand very little is known about the devices."

"The Thule Society was experimenting on infusing magic into muggle devices and stabilising them, so they would be an effective weapon for muggles to use. The exact mechanisms of how they worked or even how they were made were all destroyed as the Emperor didn't want them to fall into enemy hands considering how effective they were," Tom added, silently musing about who had the possible connections to gain access to such a device. There were very few on the top of the list.

"What do we know?" Fudge all but barked at them.

Tom could see the anger clearly in Fudge's face, every word almost a whisper through clenched teeth as he turned a darker shade of purple.

The silence in the room that followed the question was answer enough.

They knew nothing.

"Do you mean to tell me that an unknown wizard, possibly a _muggle,_ " Fudge spat, "was able to set off a device in the arena which has injured hundreds and killed god knows how many and we are aware of NOTHING!"

"There was no calling card to associate the suspect with any sympathisers or any known enemies of the Empire," Bones answered.

"Outside sources?" Fudge asked

"You mean America and the Soviet Union?" Umbridge clarified.

"Yes," Fudge answered waving his hand in confirmation. He was still the same purple coloured face he was minutes earlier.

"Neither of them is in a position to break the Pact that they signed. They may despise the Empire and the Emperor but until they are in a situation where an attack would be to their advantage they would not risk open war. None of us have actually recovered our strength and numbers since the last one ended and they wouldn't risk breaking peace," Tom supplied slowly, his mind already going over people he would need to get into contact with to ensure it wasn't. A move for either country would be foolish but as he had learnt in the past desperate people can do stupid things.

"That is my belief as well, but I have agents already working to intercept any movement on their part that looks to be an attack on the Empire. If America were to move we would be there first stopping port," Bones agreed.

"So we are thinking our own home grown rebels then?" Fudge asked.

"Order of the Phoenix has been destroyed, almost ten years ago, there is nothing left of them." A tall, dark man to the left of him said.

Tom turned to look at him. Everardo Montague, Head of the British Black Dogs division. Grindelwald's personal assassins, spies and soldiers. Trained in the darkest of arts and rituals to become something else. Something less than human. They only had a small division within Britain, but the few they had would be hell unleashed on the battlefield. Montague was the worst of them, and while he wasn't anywhere near in strength of magical power as himself, his skill set laid in particular areas that made Tom cautious if nothing else.

He wasn't afraid of the man, but he wasn't stupid either, Montague was dangerous.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Longbottom shift ever so slightly. Most people would miss it, but he didn't. Of course, the Order of the Phoenix struck close to home with the man. Ten years ago he had been at the heart of the organisation. If he remembered correctly, Longbottom had been questioned at considerable length on the activities of the group and its members. Whether he managed to hold back some small details was hard to say, but he did know that what had been given had hardly been new to them. Subconsciously he found himself looking towards the Head of the Snatchers. A reward of his own for his services during the war. Peter Pettigrew had indeed come a long way from betraying his friends, and the Order that had fought for so long.

"Tell me, Peter, is there any chance that the Order could have been reinstated?" he asked, perhaps he could admit to himself more for his own entertainment than for any real value of the answer. He could see Longbottom tense as the little man spoke. It must kill Longbottom being in the same room as him after all, Peter was responsible for so many deaths. _Bones, Ferwick, Dearborn, Mckinnon...even his own friends. Oh, how that must weigh heavy on him._

Or perhaps like many traitors he simply did not care.

"Some escaped My Lord, but were later killed," Peter answered, his eyes not quite meeting Tom's.

"True. I do believe the Emperor himself killed the Potters on the mainland. Such a waste of talent James Potter. Even his wife was an extraordinary witch. I do think we called her 'Lady of Slaughter'" he gave a small chuckle, "She certainly made us bleed when she faced us in battle."

"My Lord," Peter nodded sombrely.

"I think their child was with them when they were found. Do you ever wonder what happened to her?" he gave a small smile.

"Lord Riddle, I do believe you are getting off track," Bones cut across, her voice as cold and as sharp as steel that gave clear indication she wasn't to be argued with.

"Of course Madam Bones. I am only asking Peter does he believe any of his _old_ friends are around to order this attack," he answered, meeting her eyes with his own. She gave him a look of disbelief and arched an eyebrow. Its message was easy to read 'I know what you are doing. Picking at old wounds over lost friends just to get a reaction. The dead are dead'.

"He fed her to the wolves," Peter answered his voice quite, to begin with, but was slowly getting louder. "Our Lord Emperor fed their child to the wolves. And no. No one managed to escape that would be able to muster up the people into such an attack. You cut off the head of the order."

"The thing with heads, they sometimes have a way of growing back," Tom muttered to himself, aware that others were speaking and choosing not to listen. It was possible that one member of the Order had managed to escape and had enough determination and will to work in the shadows. It would mean they have spent the last ten years slowly gathering in strength and this attack was just the starting point.

"How are we proceeding with the investigation?"

"I currently have Aurors questioning witnesses as well as those on the ground at the scene. They are combing the area for anything that will give an indication of who was responsible," Rufus answered.

"I am liaising with the Unspeakable's collecting memories of the guards as well as witnesses who are willing, to get a play by play of what happened, and any visible indicators of what it was triggered at that particular time," Bones said.

"I have also increased security within London both on the ground at our main areas that would be prime targets for a possible future attack."

"And what of the girl?" Fudge asked him.

He sighed, "The girl is currently in a guest room in my Manor."

"Are you entirely sure that is appropriate Lord Riddle?" Bones queried, barely keeping her disproval of the situation from showing.

"Do you fear her safety or her virtue Madam Bones? I can assure you children hold no interest to me," He smirked, "Integrating her into an orphanage with other _Muggle-borns_ would be a disaster. After all, they have no memories of where they came from. They only believe they are magical orphans."

"I do not fear that at all Lord Riddle; I am merely concerned for your interest in her."

"Could she have been a part of the attack?" Umbridge asked, cutting across him before he could reply.

He sighed wearily, making a show of choosing his words wisely. "The girl's only crime is not being found before her coming of age, which is hardly her fault and more down to the incompetence of those tasked with finding such children," He answered, shooting Umbridge a look. It was she who was in charge of that task. "No, her magic while powerful, naturally reacted to her desire to live more than she wanted to die, and so it shielded her through the flames. She will remain in my care and slowly be educated, come September if I feel she is a threat to everything then steps will be taken. And as for my interest in the girl, it is simply to assess how much of danger she may be to those around her. "

"You are talking about killing her," Bones accused, hotly.

"It would be a kindness. Better death than constantly fearing yourself and what you are capable off. Those emotions would be catastrophic with magic, and nobody would be safe. She would have no control over anything and could end up killing hundreds," He answered; his voice was cold and booked no room for argument. "Uncontrolled magic can be lethal, as we all know."

He had no desire to kill the girl; at least not yet. He would determine just how useful she could be before making that choice. If it came down to it, then he would kill her without a second thought.

"Very well. It is agreed then, the girl will stay at with Tom and he will assess her progress. The attack will be investigated thoroughly. I want a full report by the end of Friday why we allowed such a thing to happen and areas we need to improve our security. I will not have anyone think we are weak. There will be no mercy for those who are caught breaking the laws and certainly none for committing treason," Fudge ordered. "You are all dismissed. Tom stay a moment."

Tom stayed seated while the others stood and left the room until only he and Fudge remained.

"Are you confident about the girl? That she is best staying at your manor rather than one of the orphanages?"

"Yes," Tom paused as if he was carefully picking his words. "She poses a risk if we put her in an orphanage. Questions would be asked, and she would unknowingly answer them. Memories are such fragile things and children's memories even more so. She could be the domino that pushes all the other dominos over."

"I suppose you are right," Fudge sighed, one hand resting on his forehead as if he were massaging it.

"The Emperor needs to know."

"Yes he does," Tom agreed, "He will likely hear about it from his loyal Hounds, but it would be best if he also heard it from you. We wouldn't want him to question your own loyalty to him."

"I serve the Emperor and the Empire!" Fudge spluttered

 _You help yourself,_ Tom answered silently, "Of course you do, but to ease any doubts that others could whisper in the Emperor's ears it is best if news of the attack was taken to him personally. By you."

"You are quite right Tom, quite right. I will have my Undersecretary begin making arrangements at once. It would be perhaps better to wait until I have the full report to disclose to the Emperor."

"Facts are better than speculation. Yes," Riddle agreed, "If that will be all Minister, I do believe I will retire for this evening. I have much preparation to do before the new school term starts, not to mention educating the girl."

"Of course, of course. Good evening Tom."

"Minister," He nodded politely, letting the one word convey his regards before standing and moving towards the fireplace.

By forcing the Minister's hand by strongly suggesting he visit the Emperor himself, he had at the very least bought himself some time with the girl, before others would want to start to intervene. It was a small window, but one he would make full use of.

* * *

XXX

* * *

She was floating.

She was weightless.

She had no anchor, she was free and yet on the corners of her awareness _something_ was swirling with colours, and feelings, flashes and images.

 _Memories._

The thought felt loud in the vast emptiness of...of what she wasn't sure. It was the oddest feeling. She wasn't sure she liked it, lost as she was. Surrounded by _space?_

But then just as if she were floating on a sea, a whirlwind of colours and feelings and flashes and images sucked her in until she was consumed by... _a memory_...

 _She was sitting on the cold hard floor,_ watching the other children around her being comforted by their mothers. She was alone and felt as though she wanted to cry but knew that if she did she was admitting weakness and weakness was a death sentence. Especially for those who were alone. She could hear the muffling and mumbling of those around her but remained silent as she slowly chewed on a dry piece of bread. She was hungry, so hungry but then everyone was as well. The laughing of the guards echoed loudly in the night. A shadow watched from the corner, she could feel the weight of them watching. The world spun around her and then she was falling.

Her memories.

Her life.

Flashed before her eyes. Dragged from the corners of her mind for the entertainment of another. She could feel them now, more aware of their presence than she had been, but she was powerless to stop them.

A part of her rebelled, at the idea of being so weak. But even that was more of a feeling of rebellion a sense of anger than her actually being able to see it. She tucked herself into a tight ball, gathering what she could and hiding them from sight.

She could _see,_ though she wasn't sure seeing was the right word, pieces that were broken, missing threads that led into the deeper darkness that she didn't want to venture into. An emptiness that she had always been aware of yet never had consciously thought about until now, where it seemed she was trapped in her own mind.

A shadow engulfed her. Swallowing her up whole until more memories overtook her. They blurred together, in a swirl of too bright colours that hurt her eyes.

 _This is impossible._

"Impossible," the shadow says to her. The voice is sharp, she is afraid it might crack her skull. She fell to her knees, colliding with what felt like concrete.

And then they're gone. Her memories and nightmares, gone.

Tiled floor and wallpapered walls rise around her.

 _A bedroom_.

She struggled to her feet; one hand rubbing her aching head as things slowly came into focus. A figure watched her from the corner of the room. A hand gripping a wand.

"What the hell did you do to me?" she croaked, and immediately wished she could take back the words. He was a _Wizard;_ she couldn't talk to him that way. He could kill her where she stood, and nobody would say anything.

 _No,_ she thought. _You aren't in a prison cell yet, which means he wants something which means for the time being you aren't going to be killed._

He didn't look offended. Instead, he smirked. A wave of nausea washed over her when she met his dark ebony black eyes, almost instantly Holly felt drawn into their depths. She doubled over and fought the urge to vomit.

"What are you doing to me?"

"Searching your memories."

"That was you?" she accused hotly, reaching up to cradle her head again. "You were in my mind? My memories? My nightmares?"

"If you know someone's fear, you see them," he answered, "And I had to know what I had on my hands."

"What gives you the right!" she hissed at him.

"Ill-mannered little brat aren't you?" he paused, "But a survivor never the less. I suggest you pay close attention little Snow."

He was mocking her; she could hear it clearly in his tone. She couldn't help but flinch at his use of Will's nickname for her.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Tom Riddle, and I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry."

Holly froze. She could feel her pulse increase ever so slightly.

She like most living in the Warren knew better than to draw wizardkind's attention to one's self. But some names, some stood out with even more of a warning.

He wasn't the Emperor.

He wasn't the Minister Adjunct Voice.

He _was_ known by another name, though, a name that rippled fear into the hearts of those that heard it. Voldemort.

He was the _heir_ and that made him dangerous and powerful. There were too many stories whispered by the fire about him, some that made even grown men tremble.

She was screwed. She was royally screwed.

"I'm not going to kill you. I didn't go to all that effort of saving your life just to kill you now," he stated, a smirk curving his lips ever so slightly as if he had read her thoughts. But then he probably had, and she would be none the wiser. Only she was certain she hadn't felt anything like she had only moments ago.

"Save my life?" she questioned, not bothering to hide the distrust from her voice.

"You performed magic in front of hundreds of wizards and witches, in front of muggles, right after a terrorist attack. People naturally started adding, and two plus two equals five in most of their minds," he replied smoothly. "I am the only reason you are still alive."

Her hands clenched, and she wished for something she could not put a name to.

"I didn't do anything, I don't have magic," she said it through clenched teeth. Determinedly leaving no room for argument. Of course, he was a wizard he cared little more her expressions or feelings. He continued as if what she said mattered little to him. He had decided she had magic and that was what he was sticking with.

 _Stubborn._

"Yes, you do. You are a witch," he paused, "How else would you explain surviving when others that were around you, did not. A person's desire to live can be the strongest emotion. It fuelled your magic into action to protect you from harm without any direction or control."

It was logical, but accepting meant what he was saying was real, and she wasn't ready for that. Not by a long shot.

"I can't be a witch."

"Then you are a muggle who has stolen magic?" he asked, his eyebrow had risen ever so slightly at the question. "No little Snow, you are a witch whether you like to believe it or not. A half-blood perhaps. You are the right age to have been orphaned during the war. With no memories of your parents and no one being none the wiser of your existence, you would have been placed in the muggle orphanages before the war ended."

Holly looked at him, truly looked at him for the first time. He was the same man she had seen in the arena yet seemed taller up close, but maybe her mind was interpreting him as a giant towering over her because he was her captor. He was tall with a medium build, but he had broad shoulders, something that she hadn't been able to see before.

On closer inspection, she noted handsome didn't quite do him justice. His face was aristocratic and too beautifully shaped to be called merely striking. It was the type of beauty that instantly drew people to it; she had seen it enough times on the streets of the Warren, even if she had never really understood the reasons why.

He was intimidating.

Power was swirling around him, she could almost taste it, and he moved with a grace that she had come to recognise as dangerous.

It was also at that moment she realised she was completely at his mercy. She had magic and had revealed it to hundreds of people, she wasn't sure exactly what it meant, but she knew it was important. And whatever was going to happen to her, depended solely on him.

 _Am I really a witch?_

 _Could I have been orphaned in the war and lived my whole life believing myself to be a muggle._

She was exhausted. Her mind overwhelmed by the day's events. Tears were stinging her eyes threatening to fall, but she pushed them back. She wouldn't cry. She had that much pride and sheer determination left. She would not give him any more satisfaction of seeing her weak; _he_ had already seen her memories, her past that was more than enough.

"What do you want from me?" she managed to force out.

"A large number of things. But none of them is your concern. Right now though little Snow you are an opportunity."

"An opportunity?"

"Yes. You are no longer Holly, a muggle thief."

"Then who am I?" she asked.

"You're half-blood. Your parents were killed during the war, and you were orphaned. With no record of you, you were lost during the chaos and raised amongst the muggles. You grew up believing you were nothing, and now due to pure chance have been made whole again," he paused, "You are a witch. And you have returned home."

"A half-blood?" she questioned, her mind already turning over his words. He wasn't lying, but he wasn't telling her the whole truth. He was hiding so much, and she was barely scratching the surface of this new world she found herself in. She was in over head, and she had no understanding of it other than what he was telling her.

You avoided Wizardkind, those were the rules that muggles lived by. And her mind hadn't fully caught up to the idea or possibility of her being anything else.

"Someone who belongs to both worlds and yet fits into none. Before the war wizards and witches fell in love and married muggles, children from such a union are and were half-bloods. They are rare in the younger generations now. Such unions are outlawed, but you are the right age to be the last generation before the end of the war."

"How can I play this role?"

"It isn't a role. It is true, and no one can argue with it. You are a witch, magic runs through your veins and so it is the only possible explanation."

He was definitely holding something back there. Holly wasn't sure what or even how she was so certain, but she was. She could feel it in her bones.

"You will spend the remaining summer weeks here. Learning everything you can and need. We are estimating your age as close to eleven so come September you will be attending Hogwarts along with the rest of your year mates, and you will be starting your journey as a witch."

That last statement told her more than he perhaps would have wanted her to know. Whether she wanted to go or not, he was going to do everything in his power to ensure she went to Hogwarts.

"Why. Why go to all this trouble. Why not just kill me, or let me go?" Holly asked

"Because you have the potential to be useful especially in the days to come..," he paused, as if thinking how much to tell her and how much to hold back "should this attack prove to be more than a mere act of _muggles_ lashing out at us, which I believe it was. The attack was too well planned and coordinated to have been a random one off."

She frowned.

Will had said there had been whispers but nothing that actually stood out as rebellion. Her mind was running through all the possibilities of how she could possibly be of any use or help until it finally settled on one scenario.

"You are going to use me," she stated he was looking at her, his black eyes studying her every move. He remained silent, though as if he wanted to see where her trail of thought was going. "If the muggles see me as a witch by blood but muggle by nature, raised up with you, then they can be placated. It's like an old fairy tale, a commoner becoming the princess. You're going to use me to be their champion. They can look at me instead of the terrorists."

"You are remarkably quick for your age. Intelligent and street smart as well," he paused, took a breath before carrying on, "yes Snow you are going to be used to placate the muggles, allow them to connect with you as one of their own despite the magical blood running through your veins. Allow them to have a champion; someone they can believe is on their side."

"They won't fall for it," she argued.

"Perhaps but you are going to convince them otherwise, _you_ are going to make them believe."

She shook her head. This wasn't a fairy tale or even a dream. This was a nightmare. She could accept if she admitted that she was a witch. Could accept she had magic and learn to control it. But playing this part, this role he was setting out for her. She wasn't sure she was capable of it. One slip up and she could entice thousands of people into an all out war.

"It won't work."

"Then I must impose you make it believable. You have an understanding of the darker nature of the world in which we live in, you have seen and experienced some its horrors. But you are still young and have not experienced war. The Emperor would sink this entire country into the ocean if he thought a rebellion was going to cause too much trouble. You are going to be a distraction, and you are going to do it so well that everyone will forget about the rebellion."

"But it's a lie."

"That is the beauty of it, Holly. It is the truth. No one can deny that you have magic, no one. Which means you cannot possibly be muggle; you are a lost witch returned to us. But you _were raised by muggles_!"

"And then what? You raise me up onto a peddle stool, what happens then."

"You become the witch you were born to be," he answered softly. "You are a witch Holly whatever you choose to believe, and sooner or later your magic will react again and again until you are unable to control it. Your own people will turn on you, rip you apart. You need to learn, and you need to control it."

She couldn't form the words to respond. She had so many questions and yet she couldn't voice a single one. Instead, she just nodded. It was all she could do.

 _I am a witch._

 _I am a witch._

 _Not a muggle._

She wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel over the realisation. Grateful? Happy? She didn't feel any of them. She didn't feel anything but fear and terror and panic. She had grown up hating everything magical. Being afraid of her masters and turning their attention to her. She had rebelled in her own way, she had escaped the Pit, had lived on the streets and had stolen and broken more than a few laws. She had resisted in fitting in, without causing too much noise or attention all for her to save enough money and escape on the Underground.

A dream that had just been stolen from right under her feet.

How could she possibly go from hatred to acceptances?

Not feeling anything was the safer option. She didn't want to be a witch. She didn't want to be anything but far away.

 _There is nothing you can do. So do what you need to do to survive. Escaping on the Underground is not lost to you, just postponed. Survive today run tomorrow._ The voice urged her.

Holly couldn't argue, though she wouldn't exactly call it the voice of reason, it was right. She couldn't give up easily, and while the situation she found herself in hadn't been part of her plan, she would survive it.

She wasn't weak.

She was a survivor.

She would play this game, but she would do it to her own tune.

She would learn, but she would learn for her own reasons.

She looked up and met Riddle's eyes with her own, before breaking the contact.

"What do I need to do?" her voice sounded more confident that she felt, but she could feel the determination was running through her.

She was going to survive, whatever the odds.

No one could argue she wasn't adaptable.

He smirked at her as if he was reading her every thought. And maybe he could, maybe some of _them_ had that capability.

 _You haven't broken me. I will play along with you, you bastard, I will learn and I will be great and when the time comes I will make my escape, and there is nothing you will be able to do._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4 - **Lessons Learned**

 _Who am I?_

The question echoed in her mind as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. It was a simple question and one she had been certain of the answer of over twenty-four hours ago.

Now she wasn't so sure.

 _I am a witch._

 _I am a witch._

The words sounded hollow.

Empty!

It sounded like a lie.

She wanted it to be a lie, but not even she could deny that she had magic. The memories of the arena too fresh in her mind to be anything but the truth.

She had magic, and Holly didn't know who she was anymore.

 _You have never known who you are. You have always been No-one._ Her mind argued, and while it was right, she had always been just Holly, or Holly no-one, she had at least known she was a muggle.

She no longer had that certainty.

It left her feeling oddly vulnerable and fearful for her future. She may have agreed in part to what Riddle had wanted her to do. But now that she was alone, in the room that had been designated hers, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly it would mean.

Other than ordering her to shower and discard of her _muggle_ clothes Riddle hadn't said another word to her. In fact, he had left in silence allowing her own thoughts to consume her. It had taken her a full five minutes to finally realise that _he_ had gone and that she was alone in the room.

Carelessness she had always avoided in the past.

Eventually, though she had followed his directions and while exhausted it had felt good to scrub herself clean from the remains of her charcoaled clothes.

With a sigh, she slowly crawled into the bed. She did not think sleep would be possible after her frightening transition from muggle to Witch. Did not believe she would ever really relax surrounded by those she still classed as enemies. However, the moment her head touched the pillow the world went dark, and she felt herself sink into a warm, quiet place.

* * *

It was the gentlest sound that woke her.

A slight shift in the air that signalled someone else was there, accompanied by the soft sound of pattering feet.

She kept her eyes closed and remained as still as she could, her breathing as even as possible, giving the illusion that she was in fact still asleep.

 _Every advantage helps with an unknown enemy._

Nothing about the intruder screamed danger, but she was in the unfamiliar territory were any danger could be lurking.

 _Nothing is what it seems, especially with magic._

She waited.

More out of habit she slowly and carefully, so not to cause too much movement, reached for the knife she normally kept hidden under her pillow only to realise it wasn't there.

She was completely unarmed for the first time in a long time.

She didn't like it.

It made her feel vulnerable and if there was one thing Holly despised it was feeling vulnerable.

It left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Panic fluttered through her, her stomach turned, and she suddenly felt sick.

 _Calm yourself!_

She pushed down the panic that stirred and slowly counted. She couldn't afford to lose control.

 _One...Two...Three._

She launched herself from the bed and towards the intruder.

A startled squeak pierced the room.

Quickly followed by a pop and the smack of body on furniture as she collided with the desk.

"Oww!" she hissed through her teeth.

She blinked her vision blurry, her glasses abandoned on the bedside cabinet. But from what she could tell though there was no sign of anyone else.

 _Maybe I am going crazy._

She crawled back towards the bed, her hands reaching for her glasses on the bedside table. Only to fall back in surprise as another pop filled the room and she came face to face with a tiny little creature standing on her bed. It couldn't have been much taller than three feet with spindly arms and legs. In comparison to the rest of its body, its head was huge, with huge round eyes that almost seemed to pop out. She noted it was wearing what looked like a pillowcase.

"Excusing me miss, we did not mean to startle you."

"What are you?" Holly blurted before she could stop herself and instantly felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment, "Umm, sorry I didn't mean. Umm...but do you mind telling me who you are?"

"Tibby, miss. Just Tibby, Tibby the house-elf," the creature replied.

She had no idea exactly what a house-elf was, but she could hazard a guess that it was a magical creature of some sorts. The fact that _she_ had managed to disappear and reappear only proved that point.

"And what does Tibby do?" she asked choosing her words carefully. She hadn't seemed to have offended the small house-elf yet, but she didn't want to push it too far.

"Tibby looks after master's house miss, as all good house-elves do. Tibby cooks and cleans and...," the elf happily squeaked in response. She reminded Holly of an over excited child.

"And how can I help you this morning Tibby?" Holly asked.

"Help Tibby! Oh no, Miss, Miss mustn't help Tibby. It would be shameful for Tibby to accept such a thing," Tibby wailed holding her head in her hands.

"I'm sorry Tibby, I didn't intend to cause you shame. I was only wondering why you were in my room so early. You will have to forgive me; I have never met a house-elf before," Holly said quickly, trying to calm the distraught elf down.

She looked at its big watery green eyes and wondered just exactly what she was supposed to do in a situation like this. Comforting people wasn't exactly in her area of expertise. Comforting a small creature where the simplest wording of a question could bring the poor thing into distraught was beyond her skill. If she could do this to a house-elf, what the hell would she be like interacting with other people in the Wizarding World?

"Miss wasn't asking to help Tibby?" Tibby asked peering up at her with tear-filled eyes.

"Not in the way you were thinking of Tibby, no. I was only wondering why you were here."

"Oh," she replied sheepishly, her hands were fiddling with a loose thread of her pillow case and her bat-like ears seemed to have curled up ever so slightly. She looked as though she was slightly embarrassed by her own outburst and if Holly was going, to be honest, a little adorable.

"Master asked Tibby to bring clothes for the little Miss and to tell her he is waiting in the drawing room. Tibby will show Miss the way when Miss is ready," Tibby said, earnestly.

"I see. Well, I best get myself ready then," Holly mumbled in agreement.

She really didn't want to see Riddle again. In fact, if she could help it she wanted to put it off for as long as possible.

Sighing to herself she pushed herself off the floor.

It didn't look like she was going to get what she wanted, not with Tibby bouncing on her bed like an excited puppy.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Tom waited patiently in the drawing room for his house-elf to bring the girl down. He had already gathered a selection of books that were currently resting on the edge of his desk. It was the start of her education, but it barely scratched the surface of what _he_ wanted and needed her to learn.

He didn't want to overwhelm her, but neither of them had the luxury to sit ideally by.

She had a lot to learn in a very short time frame.

Especially if she was going to be ready to go to Hogwarts and mix with the other children. Something he was determined to happen.

The pace would be gruelling, demanding and hard but provided she put the effort in and worked hard he had no doubt that she would be able to keep up.

He had already witnessed in her mind that she was a fast learner and intelligent enough.

It was everything else he would have to deal with on top.

He had not missed the defiance that had blazed in her eyes when she had agreed to this task when she had specifically asked what she would need to do to accomplish such a thing.

She needed to be perfect, he would accept nothing less.

He would have to tread carefully, though. If he pushed Holly too much before she was ready, then everything would fall apart before his very eyes and yet if he didn't give her enough knowledge that it would equally end in disaster.

He needed to find a balance.

Balance in giving her the knowledge and the tools she would need to manoeuvre her way through the deadly dances of the Game. Knowledge that most young witches and wizards learnt from the cradle.

And of course, he needed to know _who_ she actually was.

It was possible that she was nothing more than a muggle-born that had escaped their methods of tracking them, but there was also the possibility she could be a half-blood war orphan.

He had two choices, both had their pros and cons.

He could treat her as a muggle-born and pick out a name for her, a pureblood name that was at least recognisable and hopes that she wasn't an actual half-blood and her real family name came to light. _Or have anyone that could contest it,_ he silently added.

Or he treated her as a half-blood and had her tested one way or the other to confirm her family name and hope that way didn't reveal that she was, in fact, a Muggle-born.

Logic said to go down the route of having her blood tested and hope that it would come back with satisfactory results, but he had never been one to leave anything to chance if he could get away with it. He preferred to have as much control over a situation as he could, and a blood test left too much to chance.

Not that playing against chance was the only problem with a blood test; a record was always stored at the Ministry in the Hall of Records.

 _Something she would be able to access any given time if she wanted to._

Fudge would have the girl killed instantly if they couldn't make the story believable amongst the muggles. He wouldn't dare allow any whisper that she was actually born from Muggles and had magic.

 _"What is the matter, speaker?"_ Nagini hissed at him, her tongue tasting the air as she slithered towards him.

 _"What makes you think anything is wrong?"_

 _"Your smell has changed. You taste salty and like food."_

Her straightforward, simple understanding of the world resulted in some humorous misunderstandings and a snake that mothered him. To a degree, their relationship was both amusing and disturbing. Most often snakes were simple creatures only motivated by their own desires and had little time or patience for anything else. Being able to communicate with them wasn't nearly as helpful or as dangerous as most often perceived the talent to be.

The fact that she could either smell or taste his emotions and connect them to her own understanding had at first caused some problems.

Food for Nagini was something that was weaker than her.

And while he was by no means weak, he had come to understand his scent smelled like prey to Nagini when he felt certain emotions. Typically ones he had no desire to actually acknowledge and yet couldn't hide from Nagini. A change of chemicals in his body and he got a whole new smell that gave him away instantly.

But despite that, she was loyal and had remained by his side for more years than most.

 _"Is it about the girl upstairs? Can I eat her? I'm sure she will taste as good as she smells."_

 _"No Nagini you cannot eat her."_

 _"Not even a little bite. I would make sure it wouldn't hurt, and I am confident she wouldn't mind."_

 _"Nagini."_ He warned

Hissing at him angrily she slithered towards the fireplace.

" _You don't let me have any fun anymore."_

His mind added the sulky tone it was said in, or at least as sulkily as a snake could get. He had learnt over the years that his own interpretation often added the subtle moods and subtext that couldn't accurately be translated in Parseltongue.

"Who doesn't let you have fun anymore?"

Tom looked up startled, towards the door of the drawing room.

Holly was standing there, her green eyes looking at him with a certain amount of wariness. She was dressed in the clothes he had temporarily obtained for her.

"Excuse me?" he asked, blinking in surprise.

"You said someone doesn't let you have fun anymore, I was only asking who?" she asked again remaining where she was.

She was a Parslemouth like him.

A talent that was typically genetic.

An incredibly rare trait.

 _I'm going to have to do the blood test now._

Nagini moved towards the girl almost instantly.

 _"Nagini!"_ he warned.

 _"I only want a taste. She smells so good. Just one little bite."_

 _"I said no!"_ he added a small touch of magic to each word, silently adding the command through the bond they shared. _"You certainly can't bite me!"_ Holly had exclaimed at the exact time.

Nagini paused.

As if startled by the unexpected response.

Inch by inch she rose until she was almost eye level with the girl. He watched Holly instinctively take a step back, and he honestly didn't blame her. Nagini was roughly twelve foot long and was as thick as a man's thigh. It wouldn't surprise him in the slightest if she weighed more than the girl put together.

"What the hell is that thing?" Holly exclaimed.

 _"Nagini! To me!"_ His tone brooked no room for argument. Reluctantly Nagini lowered herself to the floor and slithered back towards him not before throwing an angry hiss towards the girl.

Holly didn't flinch.

"As to your question Nagini is my familiar of sorts," he answered smoothly ensuring he gave nothing betrayed his surprise to her.

"Familiar?"

"We share a bond. Witches and Wizards have the potential to do so with individual animals, should a match be found. It isn't always the case, though. Such bonds are rare these days," he answered; it was as good an answer as any. And not a complete lie.

She threw Nagini a look of distrust. "It wants to eat me."

" _She_ , Nagini is a she. And she won't eat you."

"Right, because that's not what she said only seconds ago," Holly accused

"I believe she told me she wanted a bite."

"That is completely beside the point."

"The point is moot. Nagini won't eat you because I have told her she can't. She unlike some others I could name actually follows my orders. I was expecting you earlier."

She shrugged, "I was getting ready."

"You don't seem the type to spend hours getting ready."

"You don't know me," she hissed at him, sounding more like Nagini than a human child.

She made a point he couldn't argue with.

He had seen her memories, he knew her fears, and he was aware of what she was capable off. But the thoughts and emotions that stirred behind such actions were unknown to him. The inner workings of her mind a complete mystery.

No amount of studying her memories would give him an insight into her emotions or personality. Oh, he certainly knew how to motivate her desire to live, but then he knew how to motivate most people when it came to life and death.

"We have much to discuss in regards to your education," he said, not having any desire to dwell on the thoughts and feelings of a child, "I will be shortly be drawing up a schedule that we will be following for the next few weeks. It will be stuck to."

He threw her a look before continuing, "As for now, I have gathered some books that you will start reading. We do not have a moment to lose and every minute must be dedicated to your learning until September."

"What if I don't?" she asked.

"You do not want to test my patience, Little Snow," he answered coldly, "You agreed that you were a witch; you accepted that you needed to learn. I expect cooperation."

"I agreed to learn magic."

"You do not teach a baby to run until it has first learnt to crawl, stand and walk. There is more to magic than simply wand waving. You need to understand the world you now belong to. You need to know the laws of magic and the laws of the Empire that affect witches and wizards. You need to understand the theory and the components required to cast spells and channel your magic."

"I didn't do any of that at the arena," she argued.

"Of course. How foolish of me, I will ensure you are in life and death situations all the time. That way you will instantly be using magic," he paused, took a breath and attempted to soothe his growing anger. She was testing him significantly. If she had been anyone else he didn't think he would be able to hold back the Cruciatus Curse that was almost on his lips.

She was defying him.

"You need to learn. If you do not, I will kill you myself and be done with you. I do not have the time nor the desire to waste it on fools."

She remained silent, and he took it as a sign that she wasn't going to argue with him any further.

"Are you able to read and write?" he asked,

She didn't answer him. Not straight away.

"No."

He took a deep breath.

She was lying to him. She was lying to him and looking him straight in the eyes while doing so. Her mind still weakened from his invasion last night; its natural defences were weak and useless. He quickly slipped in and saw what he needed to see to know she was lying.

He counted to three.

...Slowly.

"I will ask you one more time. Can you read and write?" his asked coldly. The room had gone cold, and he could feel his magic rising in response to the anger that was unfurling inside of him. His anger had always been ice cold. His hand gripped his wand tightly.

"No!" she answered firmly.

" _Crucio!_ " the spell had left his mouth before he could fully comprehend his actions. Magic blazed within him. The spell hit the girl, and she screamed.

She doubled over before falling to her knees. Her hands curling against the carpet digging in hard enough to make her fingers bleed from the pressure.

 _One...two...three..._

He broke contact with the spell. Reeled his magic back under control and let it coil back inside of him.

She wasn't screaming anymore. She had stopped after the first initial contact, having gained enough control over herself to ride through it. But her whole body was trembling; blood was dripping down from her mouth as she had bitten into her lower lip to stop herself from screaming.

She had handled it better than most wizards and witches half her age did. But it had also been completely unnecessary.

"I don't appreciate being lied to and I certainly don't appreciate you trying to make a fool of me. If you cannot lie well, then do not lie at all. Do I make myself clear?"

She didn't answer him. But her green eyes were blazing with fury.

Her anger crashed into him like a wave. Hot and sharp like swords being forged.

The intensity surprised him. The power behind it even more so. He almost allowed himself to relish in it for a moment, but decided against it and raised his own shields to protect himself. Holly had caught him unaware for such rush of her emotions and power.

A careless mistake he wouldn't make again.

Looking at her though all he could see was a trembling child in pain. He couldn't see the power or the magic that rested inside of her. He couldn't see the defiant street orphan who resented the upheaval of her life.

He doubted he had done anything to ease her fears of magic.

Guilt slowly started to gnaw at him.

It made him angry. He didn't want to feel guilty over what he had done. He had never felt guilty over causing another pain before and he _refused_ to start doing it now.

 _You need her._

He didn't need her. He didn't need anyone. He wanted to use her, but he certainly didn't need her.

 _She had to be taught a lesson._

 _There are other ways. You need her to trust you, for you to mould her. She isn't going to trust you now._

His thoughts went back and forth until eventually one side won over the other.

He had acted foolishly he could admit that silently to himself.

Other options had been available to him, but he had picked the one that had been easiest.

He needed patience for his plan to work. Patience and time to mould her into what he needed her to be.

She wasn't one of his followers, she wasn't someone that needed to be intimidated into doing what he wanted her to do. That way wasn't going to work.

She needed to serve willingly or not at all.

He walked towards her and picked her up. She flinched under his touch but made no other protest. Carefully he carried her to the room he had given to her and laid her on the bed.

"Tibby!" he summoned

"How can Tibby help?" the elf asked the moment she appeared.

"Go to Severus Snape's residence and request a calming draught and a pain relief potion to counteract the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. I want at least three bottles of the stuff," He ordered, "I am giving you permission to leave the manor for this task."

"Tibby understands. Tibby will do as the master has asked." The elf nodded with more enthusiasm than the situation truly required, but he said nothing. Instead, he focused back onto Holly.

She was going to test him.

He could see that now. She was going to be stubborn and defy him and push back at him.

 _Perhaps you need to approach this in a different way._

Perhaps.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Sirius paced.

It had been over twenty-four hours since the terrorist attack on the arena.

Twenty-four hours since London had issued an alert state.

It brought back more memories than he cared for.

Memories of bloody streets and dead scattered everywhere.

Memories of chaos and panic and fear and exhaustion and pain.

Memories of war lost friends and broken promises.

He sighed wearily, rubbing a hand through his hair.

He hadn't been at the arena for the attack, he had made use of Holly's absence by getting in touch with one of his contacts, but he had heard the explosion, had felt the magic in the very air.

He had heard the screams.

Battle worn instincts had kicked in instantly, and he had made his way through the running crowds with ease. He had offered what aid he could without a second thought, keeping himself out of view from his brethren but ensuring as many of the muggles at the very least made it out alive.

He had prayed that Holly hadn't been caught up in the chaos of the arena.

But as they usually did his prayers had fallen on deaf ears.

He had watched her fall into the flames.

Had watched her display of magic, which could only be described as accidental, even though he knew deep down it was less accidental and more conscious than she realised.

Than anyone realised.

He had watched her attempt to flee. Had watched her fight against the current of the crowds.

Every fibre of his being screamed at him that he needed to keep her safe.

He had launched himself forward the moment he had seen her in danger. Had shoved and pushed his way through the crowds that were doing everything they could to escape. Before he had even contemplated on simply apparating himself to her and then apparating them both far away, she had been hit by a spell that had frozen her in place.

His heart had stopped the moment he had seen who had apprehended her.

 _Voldemort._

Though the bastard rarely used his pseudo name in public anymore. Too busy being the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Not that it mattered.

Sirius had watched helplessly as Voldemort had taken Holly and apparated away with her.

For a few brief moments, he had been completely paralysed with his warring emotions.

He knew he had precious little time, but he hadn't been able to make himself move.

In that single moment, he had let fear take over him.

 _Holly is as good as dead._

It had only taken someone knocking into him to bring him back to his senses, and he had apparated away back to the library.

It was how he found himself twenty-four hours later with no word and pacing.

Patience wasn't a virtue he knew well.

In fact, he was anything but patient.

 _Planning for battles is useless. But planning is indispensable._

He had planned and prepared for every possible scenario in how the Wizarding World would discover Holly.

A terrorist attack he hadn't prepared for.

Her revealing her magic to save her life he hadn't prepared for.

The attack on the arena had been an unforeseeable occurrence.

He sighed softly.

He still wasn't sure whether she was still alive.

"Oh to hell with this!" he growled.

He walked towards one of the cupboards and grabbed a candle, before moving to the cot Holly slept in. Upon her pillow, he was able to find some loose strands of her hair. He carefully picked them up and moved back towards the table.

It was an old spell that had fallen out of practice centuries ago but had still in part been passed down the Black generations. It revealed whether the person in question was alive or not.

With a soft mutter, he lit the candle, waited a moment, before moving his wand over the burning flame.

 _"Fumus revelat veritatem!"_ he whispered, dropping the few strands of hair into the lit fire.

He felt his magic gather around the candle, making it glow brightly before it slowly changed colour to a startling silvery grey. The light pulsed slowly, representing the beat of a heart. The colour matched Holly's aura perfectly, and while he knew it was unusual it was something he had never once questioned.

He breathed.

He hadn't even realised he had been holding it till that point.

 _She is alive._

She was alive, and that was all that mattered.

It meant that he could at least start making the preparations that were needed to ensure she stayed that way.

 _I'm not sure this was what you had in mind Lily all those years ago, but I have done my best. She has turned into someone rather extraordinary, stubborn like her father who never gave up on an idea when it entered his mind, and she is just like you when it comes down to carefully strategizing. I just hope I don't let either you or James down and that I am able to keep her safe. She is still a child regardless of how she thinks of herself._

He had little time to put everything into place.

He would need to move quickly.

 _Persistence. Perfection. Patience. Power. Prioritise your passion. And everything will fall into place._

His father's words rippled through his mind. He had always hated being a Black, the lessons and lectures he had been forced to endure as a child. Now though he knew he was going to have to call on every single one of them if he was going to navigate his way through the game and ensure everything went according to plan.

Holly depended on him even if she didn't know it and he had no intention of letting her down.

Holly being discovered had set things into motion.

It meant the next phase was about to begin.

He just hoped and prayed he had the strength to carry it through.

 _For her, there is nothing you wouldn't do._

He had made a promise, and he wasn't going to break it now.

His first stop would need to be Gringotts.

He would need to deal with the Goblins carefully, but he was sure that with enough money he would be able to sway them to his way of thinking, or at least for a time.

* * *

XXX

* * *

There was something stringently methodical about Potion making.

It was where he was the most at home.

Logical over emotional.

His mind thrived, and in the safety and comfort of his own Potions lab, it was here that Severus Snape actually felt relaxed.

It was here he had started learning from his mother and his passion for Potions had indeed been born, while he despised everything else about his childhood home, the Potions lab held some fond memories.

Whether it was simply going through the painstakingly tedious task of ensuring Hogwarts had a fresh supply of healing potions before the start of term. He always ended up needing to make more during the year, or to researching and refining his art in his own personal way he was more than happy to spend the entire summer weeks alone while he brewed.

Something that if it were not for Narcissa Malfoy, being an overbearing fuss pot though he would never call her that to her face, Regulus Black and the youngest Lestrange visiting to ensure he was at least sociable, it was entirely probable that he would, in fact, do just that.

Nine weeks of undisturbed peace.

He couldn't imagine anything better.

It was why when an excited little elf had so rudely popped into his lab and had caused him to add too much valerian to the potion he was currently working on, effectively making is useless, he was less than pleased.

Even now he had yet to work out how house-elves were able to bypass every security ward. They were able to enter unplottable locations, highly secured areas without so much as a flicker on the wards.

He supposed to some extent it was the arrogance of wizards and seeing them as a lesser being.

A part of the scenery.

Angrily, he waved his wand and watched the potion vanish from sight before he turned to face the intruder. He knew full well his anger was barely contained, and the small flinch the house-elf gave in response to his glare only confirmed it.

It was only on closer inspection he fully realised whom the elf belonged to.

It made him pause in his anger. _Only just,_ he silently added.

Why was his _master_ sending an elf to him, rather than simply summoning him through the mark that graced his arm?

 _Because the mark summons all of us._ He answered without missing a beat.

Whatever his master was requesting he wanted it to remain between the two of them.

It instantly made him weary.

He had played his part well, and he certainly hadn't survived so long without having a heavy dose of caution and paranoia.

"Excusing me, Sir," the creature squeaked "but the master is requesting some potions."

"For a particular purpose?" he asked.

The elf nodded once. "Master is wanting calming drought and...and potions to counter the bad curse."

 _Cruciatus Curse,_ his mind supplied. _Why in Merlin would he want the pain relief potion for that curse?_

His master had never once shied away from causing harm to others. To a small degree, he was sure that the man actually relished in it. In power, he held while someone lay screaming in front of him.

But for as long as _he_ had served he had never known once where his master had ever asked for help in regards to caring for his victims after such sessions.

His followers had often been left bloody and broken after particularly harsh punishments. Relying only on themselves or the mercy of one of their brethren should they decide to show it.

"How many will the Dark Lord need?" he asked.

"No less than three Sir," The elf answered.

Not an alarming amount.

"Is there anything else the Dark Lord needs?"

"No, that would be all, Sir!"

They're over excitement nervousness when dealing with wizards was enough to grate on his nerves and be grateful that he didn't have one. Nor did Severus desire for one.

He preferred his solitude.

Not to have something hovering around just on the edge of his awareness while never wanting it or craving his acknowledgement.

"Very well. I will see to it at once. Are you waiting for it?"

"Master said Tibby should wait. So Tibby will wait."

He didn't bother to respond. Instead, he set about gathering the ingredients needed for the potions that had been requested. By his estimate both would be ready by late evening. He was just grateful that he already had all the ingredients needed, he didn't have any desire to know what his punishment would have been should there have been a delay.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5 - **Courtesy Goes a Long Way.**

 _From the twisting smoke-filled clouds blood rained down. The air turned to fire, the fire to light liquefied. The bolt that struck from the heavens blazed through our Lord Emperor, bored into the bowels of the earth. Stone turned to vapour at its touch. The earth thrashed and quivered like a living thing in agony. Only a heartbeat did the shining bar exist, connecting ground and sky, but even after it vanished the earth yet heaved like that in a storm. Screams filled the air, agonising screams. The ground broke apart with thunderous reverberations, scattering red-stained rocks skyward with their destruction - clouds filled with debris and shredded flesh and blood now swirled in storms of dissipating heat, spreading to fill the sky. When the dust had settled, all that remained of the city of Warsaw was a huge black sink hole. The uprising that had started the 1st August 1944 ended two months later when the Lord Emperor took to the field and in a single hour destroyed an entire city. In doing so, he changed the world and the course of the War..._

Holly's eyes followed the words on the page, slowly absorbing them one by one and filing them away for later. 'Rise of an Empire' didn't hold back on any of the details about the War and the price that had been paid for the Emperor to create _his_ Empire. Its Author was clearly devoted to both the Emperor and the cause, and yet still it seemed couldn't fully comprehend the fact that one man had changed the fate of the world. If not for the destruction of Warsaw almost forty-seven years ago the two worlds may never have collided.

Holly wasn't sure how she was supposed to wrap her mind around that possible concept. Maybe the _Emperor_ would have revealed magic in another way to the world but his actions that day had cowered most people's desire to fight back. The message was clear to read even to her untrained mind 'look at what I can do, oppose me and this too shall be your fate'.

The more she read, the more she learned, the more she despised the man that called himself Emperor. Living in the Warren, the muggles had always mumbled and groaned at their direct masters, the Wizards and the Voice of the Emperor. She had never really given much thought to the man who _ruled_ them. A mistake she now couldn't afford. Holly could honestly say with certainty she never wanted to meet this man.

 _Survive. Learn. Escape._

It was the only thing that kept her going, the only thing that pushed her on, forced her to keep her tongue whenever she was in Riddle's presence.

If she was going to achieve her freedom, then she needed to learn everything she could. Thankfully her learning wasn't the problem.

Two weeks had passed in a routine that was the same as the second morning after her arrival. There hadn't been a repeated incident of her first morning, and it was something she was grateful for.

Tibby woke her early each morning with an excited eagerness that left Holly both confused and amused. She had never seen, or met, anyone with quite the same level of eagerness to serve or please their masters. Maybe it was because the House-elf had never experienced freedom before that she had no desire for it. Or maybe it was simply because she was a house-elf and it was a part of who they were.

Whatever the reason was for the enthusiasm that drove Tibby forward Holly was at the very least grateful for the small creature.

Breakfast was a quiet affair in the smaller of the two dining rooms the manor had and was normally only something she had by herself though Tibby often stood in the background. The house-elf bouncing around always reassuring herself that she had done enough for Holly and that she could do more if the Miss so wished.

Riddle had only joined them twice since she arrived.

She wasn't entirely sure what time the man got up or even what he did in the time between her lessons. While she was always aware of his presence in the Manor, she never saw him outside of the time he had allocated to give her lessons.

Her lessons in the morning consisted of two gruelling hours of Latin. A language she was slowly beginning to despise regardless of how much she might need it to cast spells. Following Latin was a two-hour lesson that often included various subjects but most often involved the History of the Empire, Wizarding Culture and Practices, Wizarding Laws, and much more that left her head spinning with questions.

He gave her reading list after reading the list and quizzed her on a daily basis.

After lunch, it was practising writing with a quill. Something Holly found equally as tedious as learning Latin, followed by even more lessons. Though the afternoon lessons were the ones she was most interested in, though she would never admit to it.

Magical Theory!

Magical Practice!

Though she had yet to learn any magic or practice any spells. She found the theory of each stage and component and how they linked altogether rather fascinating, even if it was a little hard to fully understand.

She learnt about the History of Magic, and about the History of Potions, and what exactly was entailed in the art of potion making. Ever since she had made those potions against the Snatchers, that worked, she had been drawn to the idea of being able to brew more of her own, and now she would have that chance, without fear of being caught or worry about her ingredients.

After her lessons, she was allowed to do what she wanted, though she was expected to study in her own time. Riddle had made that extremely clear.

She wasn't allowed to slack, but she was allowed to explore.

It hadn't taken her long on her second day to find the library and vast amount of books it held. It was where she spent most of her time when she wasn't exploring the rest of the Manor.

It was from her own reading that she learnt more about the Wizarding World. Subjects that more than likely Riddle didn't feel as important as they were everyday things and yet she had had no idea about them.

Photos moved, mirrors talked, brooms flew (there even was a game called Quidditch that used brooms). There was a whole different side to them, a whole different world to the one they portrayed with the muggles.

She was soaking every little piece of information up. Her curiosity pushing her to find more as her mind absorbed it all. She had always thirsted for knowledge. For as long as she could remember. And while she had at her fingertips more knowledge than she had ever hoped for before and couldn't possibly consume with the time she had available to her.

She couldn't help but feel conflicted about the whole affair.

She was enjoying herself when she wasn't in Riddle's company, and it instantly made her feel guilty.

She wasn't supposed to like what she was learning. She was meant to be doing it for survival, so she could escape.

She wanted to hate what she was learning. Wanted to hate everything about it.

And yet she didn't.

She found it fascinating.

Holly sighed.

She needed to distract herself. To focus on anything but the swirling emotions inside of her every time she felt herself generally enjoying or liking something.

She looked up from her book 'A Rise of an Empire' and searched for a distraction. Her eyes finally rested on Tom Riddle who was sitting at his desk in the library, scribbling away. She could hear the scratching sounds of quill meeting parchment.

She wasn't entirely sure what to make of the man.

 _Wizard,_ her mind corrected.

Thinking of Tom Riddle as anything but a Wizard was like thinking a tiger was nothing more than a house cat. Both were likely to get you killed.

He was dangerous.

Powerful.

He had a passion for teaching, that much was clear to see when he was teaching her and he expected her to put one hundred percent effort into her learning. Having seen his anger first hand, she didn't want to experience it ever again.

His punishment if anything had reinforced everything she feared about magic.

With a single word, he had caused excruciating pain to flare through her body. It had been like nothing she had ever felt before. Not even in the Pit. It hadn't been like the localised pain of a broken bone or the red hot searing pain of an iron rod branding her skin. It had been something else entirely. It had been like every fibre of her body had been stabbed with red-hot pokers.

She had screamed.

And she felt ashamed for that even now.

But just as quickly as it had begun he had ended the spell leaving her weak and shaking in its wake. She hadn't been able to move.

It was there that Tom Riddle had offered a contradiction to him that still left her confused even thinking about it.

He had picked her up and carried her to her room.

He had forced potions down her throat to counteract the effects of the spell.

He had muttered to himself as he stayed by her side, about the foolhardiness of youth and stubbornness of her and other things she hadn't been quite able to make out.

The whole experience had left her both shaken and uncertain.

There was no doubt she was wary of him.

Incredibly so.

And yet that wariness still didn't stop her from pushing him just a little. Pushing him in ways that said, 'I won't roll over and die just because you might hurt me. I'm not afraid of pain'.

There was no doubt in her mind that he was an enigma and one she wanted to solve.

And she wasn't even sure why.

The only thing she had been able to determine, besides his love for teaching, was that some reason Tom Riddle despised his Manor.

"Is there something you need?"

His voice cut through her trail of thoughts, and she quickly looked up at him. He was still busy scratching away with his quill, but he was clearly aware of her staring.

"Why did the Emperor destroy Warsaw?" she blurted out.

She hadn't meant to ask that question, it was too close to dangerous territory involving her opinions on all things magical, and she _knew_ that only angered him. But he had put her on the spot she hadn't given it much thought about what she was asking.

"What do the books say?" Riddle answered he hadn't bothered to look up from where he was sitting behind a desk in the library, scratching away with his quill.

It annoyed her sometimes how arrogantly dismissive he was of her.

And then she was annoyed with herself because she actually wanted his attention while she was learning.

It was a mess.

There was no other way to describe it.

She sighed, "It doesn't. It just describes the destruction. It makes no mention of what he did or how he did it, no reason or logic. It just describes the aftermath."

"Some would say that war has no reason or logic."

"But not you?"

"Why do you think he did?" Riddle asked looking straight at her.

She almost wished he wouldn't, that he would go back to scratching away with his quill. She had learnt that she wasn't actually capable of hiding things when he looked at her. In the Warren, she had been excellent at only showing people what she wanted them to see. Riddle seemed to see through every deflection she used, every ploy she played.

She bit her lip. She knew from experience that sometimes it was best to attack first to be left alone. The Pit and in part the Warren prayed on the weak. Show people what you could do, and it would seem like it would be too much effort to take what you had, but she also knew it was better to be underestimated as well. But her experience was all in defence and survival. Not in a war where you were dealing with an uprising. Not in a war where you wanted to conquer the world and bring it to its knees.

She wasn't entirely sure Riddle would appreciate her answer that she thought the Emperor was a mad man. Holly let the question roll through her mind. If she was in the position, in a war and facing an uprising. What would she do? The answer came almost instantly. Disturbingly so. She wasn't sure she liked the idea that she could possibly see the same reason or logic behind such a destructive act, which not only killed thousands but changed the world in such away.

"To obliterate them completely. To show the world that he wouldn't be defied. To show that should you risk challenging the Empire you not only risked your own lives but the lives of thousands of people. The Uprising resulted because they had been allowed to live and was afraid that their time to die was approaching. They were choosing how they died. The Emperor destroyed an entire city to prove a point."

"An Indian Philosopher, Kautilya, said 'the remnants of an enemy can become active like those of a disease or fire. Hence those should be exterminated completely. One should never ignore an enemy, knowing him to be weak. He comes dangerous in due course, like a spark in a haystack.' The Emperor destroyed an entire city to prove a point that he could, and in doing so stopped resistance forming in most instances in very City and Country he conquered afterwards."

"Except Britain," she muttered

"The British Army should have been destroyed the moment he conquered. They should have been hunted down one by one. More is lost through stopping halfway than through total annihilation. Enemies can and will recover, and they will seek revenge or choose how they wish to die by fighting. It is better to crush them completely not only in body but in spirit as well if you are planning to let them live."

"They are now. The muggles have no spirit," she murmured.

"As they should be. The Muggles have their place and their place is to serve."

"Why because they don't have magic?"

"Because they are less than us. We. Were. Born. To. Lead." He hissed, "They were born to serve."

She could hear his disgust as he hissed.

She was well aware that he hated muggles. But she felt it went far deeper than merely thinking they were inferior beings.

"Why do you hate us so much?" she asked.

Anger swirled in his eyes, and she could have sworn that a moment they changed colour.

"You. Are. Not. A. Muggle!" each word carried a serious undertone to it. A warning that she was pushing him too far.

He was right, she wasn't a muggle, but she still didn't feel like a witch. She may have been learning about their world, seeing things that very few _muggles_ would have ever seen before but she still didn't feel like one of them.

She wasn't sure what she was anymore.

"You are dismissed for today. Continue reading 'A Rise of an Empire' and practice your writing. I will be testing you on the book tomorrow to ensure you have read it," he snapped at her.

Without a word Holly gathered her things and retreated in the library.

While she occasionally pushed him, she also knew when to leave well enough alone.

* * *

XXX

* * *

The morning of the 31st of July, Holly snapped to full alertness as she shifted from sleep to conscious. Her sheets were tangled around in near suffocating tightness while her skin was clammy with cold sweat that made her pyjamas cling to her uncomfortably.

It took a few moments while she fought for control over her racing heart and heavy breathing before she could recall her nightmare.

She was dreaming of the mirror again, and the whispered words that told her to remember.

The images had changed, though. Instead, Holly was reliving the past only it was different in ways she hadn't remembered. In each one there was always something lurking in the shadows, or the corner of her eye but vanished the moment she turned to look at them and replaced by memories she wasn't sure she trusted anymore.

It had been the same nightmare since Riddle had messed with her memories and made her question everything she thought she knew.

Absently she rubbed a hand through her hair.

She needed a shower, desperately and perhaps something that would ease the pain that was growing in her temple.

Headaches had been getting worse as well.

Perhaps she was imaging things. With everything that had been going on the last four weeks, she felt as if she was entitled to have a few nightmares and always questioning what she thought she knew about herself.

She only knew for definite that something didn't really feel right when it came to her past and she couldn't determine what.

She stretched before slowly getting out of bed.

She couldn't believe she had been at Riddle Manor for a month. The weeks had passed by in a blur, and she still felt like she was no closer to fully understanding everything.

She caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye and turned to look at it. Draped over the chair by the window was what looked like a dark green robe?

 _A Wizard's Robe._

She walked over to it and ran her hands over it.

The material felt smooth under her touch. _Velvet._

It looked expensive, more expensive than anything she had ever worn before.

She picked it up and walked towards the mirror before throwing it over her shoulders and sliding her arms through the sleeves. It reached the floor and covered her pyjamas completely.

It was beautiful.

The darkness of the green contrasted next to her pale skin and her dark black tangled hair.

She didn't look like herself, though.

She looked like a witch.

 _You are a witch._ The voice remained her once again.

She sighed and took off the robe and placed it back on the chair. She wasn't sure what Riddle had planned today, but it apparently involved the new wardrobe, but she would deal with it after she had showered.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Tom Riddle mentally cursed as he put down the paper he had been reading. Over the last four weeks it had been full of possible leads and rumours about the attack on the arena, but hidden amongst its pages was also the constant reminder to the public of his house guest.

Enough so that people were beginning to question exactly who she was and whether she was, in fact, a Muggle-born.

If Fudge caught a sniff of the rumour that too many people were asking questions, he wouldn't give Holly the chance to develop or even be used in their ploy. He would only order her to be killed so he could keep the peace, not disrupt the careful balance that the Empire had created when it came to Muggle-borns and prove his loyalty to the Emperor.

The only saving grace was that he was currently still on the mainland updating the Emperor of the current circumstances regarding the attack. It meant he had to move quickly, he had precious time left.

His eyes glanced towards the door, yet there was still no sign of the girl.

She wasn't usually tardy in the mornings, though she did drag her heels on the odd occasion.

He often found their battle of wills both amusing and annoying all in the same breath. It had been some time since someone had openly defied him, and while she knew nothing about who he really was other than he was the Emperor's _heir_ it was still rather refreshing. Even if it was a child.

In truth, she wasn't that unpleasant.

She mostly kept to herself in the afternoons staying out of his way either outside on the manor's grounds or tucked away in the library. She studied, asked questions that clearly proved she was intelligent and curious and seemed to soak up the information he provided like sponge soaked water.

She seemed to retain it considerably better than most other children her age, as she never asked the same question twice. She spoke up if she didn't understand something or would later explore on her own.

He had quickly learned she had an independent nature. Not trusting him enough to take anything off him for free.

 _She would certainly do well in Slytherin_ if she survived long enough to see September.

But while she was a good student she was also stubborn to a T, her defiance was something he would need to break her of soon if he was going to successfully mould her to his way of thinking and shape her into something he could use. She was secretive and at times hard to read. She hadn't quite learnt the subtle arts of keeping her emotions entirely off her face, she had a temper but good control over it for someone her age.

He had seen a raging storm behind those eyes a few times when looking at him or over something she had discovered that she found particularly offensive.

From her memories, it was evident to see that she was a survivor. She had no problems in doing what needed to be done to survive. She held loyalty only to herself and a dog she had found on the streets. She was hardworking and meticulous in her planning and pulling off a job. He had been surprised seeing a few of the unsolved thefts that had been big enough to grab the attention of the Snatchers were, in fact, her work.

But it was from her memories he also realised he faced his greatest challenge. She had seen too much and survived the brutalities of the Pit to fully trust magic. She both feared and despised Wizardkind and in turn was fighting a battle with herself every day. There were moments that he could clearly see the joy she was experiencing over what she was learning until her own inner turmoil convinced her that she shouldn't and the mask slipped back on.

She didn't yet think of herself as a witch.

It was why he refrained so much from punishing her using magic for her little defiance acts.

He had made a mistake in the beginning by using the Cruciatus Curse and had perhaps made a slight set back in gaining her trust and faith in magic.

If she couldn't drop the mentality of _them_ and us she was a risk.

She needed to accept she had magic and trust in it completely.

It was why he had waited until today to take her to Diagon Alley, it aligned with something else _he_ hoped would ease her fear of magic, let go of her mistrust and actually accept she was a witch.

As much as he despised this weakness she seemed to have, she was too much of a potential power source to waste so needlessly if there was some way to make her accept magic.

He took a sip of his coffee and waited patiently.

He had felt her before he saw her.

Her magic was swirling around her like a maelstrom, chaotically and uncontrollably. He could feel the heat and the cold push against him as it whipped around in the air. Even now unknown to her; magic gathered around her. He could smell the ozone and rain and an underline hint of something he couldn't quite determine.

Nobody could mistake her for a muggle.

At least not anyone with even a spark of sensitivity running through them.

He would need to teach her to shield before she attended Hogwarts.

And then she was entering the dining room.

Indeed studying her he noted she was a scrawny little thing, looking to be younger than what her magic indicated her age to be. Years of not eating properly he supposed, not even a month of eating regular meals would be able to completely cure years of neglect, and so he had been adding nutritional potions three times a day to her meals. She was plain really, with pale skin and black hair that she had tied back in a single braid though he had noted a few strands had managed to break free and frame her face. She was at the stage where you couldn't say for certain whom she would grow into. Whether she would stay the same or whether she would grow into her feature and become someone beautiful.

But what was her most extraordinary feature were her emerald green eyes that seemed to shine and swirl with magic just like the killing curse. There was power in them there was no denying it.

He was pleased to note that she was dressed in the green robes he had purchased for her. They almost matched her eyes perfectly.

She also looked like a witch.

Which had been his intention all along, she needed to start seeing herself as one, so she needed to start wearing the clothes of one.

"Good morning," he greeted with a smile. Or rather what amounted as a smile.

He had always been able to charm people when he wanted to.

She shot him a look that clearly told him she wasn't buying what he was selling, which amused him to no end before she sat down and reached for the jug of pumpkin juice and two Crêpes before adding yoghurt and fruit. It seemed Holly preferred pastries of some sort for breakfast.

"Mornin'," she replied in between a sip of her drink and a bite of her food.

"Morning!" he corrected softly.

She shrugged before returning back to her food.

 _Patience._ He gritted his teeth but said nothing.

There were days _she_ really tested his patience.

"Today we won't be studying in quite the same way. We will be venturing out to gather your school equipment amongst a few other things. It will give you hands-on experience within the Wizarding quarters."

"I'm still going to Hogwarts then?" she muffled, taking another bite of her breakfast.

"Why wouldn't you be?" he asked.

She shrugged again in response but remained silent as she chewed her food.

He had a feeling that it would be a long day.

"We will go as soon as you have finished your breakfast," he stated, finishing off the last of his coffee and instantly wishing for another.

He watched her take another bite of her breakfast before placing her knife and fork down. There was something wrong; while she was a quiet girl in general her mood, this morning seemed to be sombre in comparison to other mornings.

A part of him warned that he should ask. That he should show concern, help her trust him just a little more, but it was too against his own nature.

If it were to become a problem and interfered with his plans, then perhaps then he would ask, but for now, he was willing to let her stew over whatever was bothering her and stay well enough away.

Despite being the Headmaster and taking the liberty of actually teaching some of the classes, he would have been tearing his hair out if all he had to deal with was just the running of the school every day, dealing with the emotional side of children or anyone really was pushing him to his limits.

He despised weakness in others unless he could exploit it to his own goals.

"I'm ready to go," she stated, after finishing her drink.

Her breakfast was almost finished, but he would be willing to stop and buy food when they were out if she got hungry.

"Very well. I will give you a few moments to clean yourself up, and I will meet you in the entrance hall." He nodded to her before pushing his chair back and standing.

He had a few things he needed to gather himself before they left.

She was already waiting for him in the entrance hall by the time he had finished gathering what he needed.

She looked relaxed and yet he knew she was still fully alert to what was going on around her. He had yet to surprise her without using magic when he entered a room she was in. To ingrained into her from living on the streets to always be on guard.

It was a good survival skill to have.

"Good you are ready," he said as he moved his way to the fireplace that graced his entrance hall. "We are going to be travelling by Floo today."

"Floo?"

"A network of connected fireplaces that allows you to travel from one place to another. It is one of the easier options for a witch or wizard to move from one location to another."

"What do you need to do?"

"You take a pinch of Floo powder. Throw it onto the flames, step into the fire and say your destination clearly."

"As simple as that?"

"Yes, as simple as that. You must speak clearly, though, or you are likely to end up at the wrong gate. I have no desire to go searching for you simply because you cannot speak clearly. Do I make myself clear?" Tom stated, eyes meeting hers and once again he saw a flicker of anger dance across them before it vanished.

"Yes!" she put a little too much emphasis on the s as it rolled off her tongue, but he accepted it.

"I will let you go first. On the other side, only step out of the fireplace and wait for me. Do. Not. Move!"

She didn't bother to respond to him, just took some of the powder and waited.

"We are going to Diagon Alley."

She nodded once and threw the powder into the flames. They roared and turned green. He noted she hesitated just a little before stepping into them and shouted 'Diagon Alley!' he watched her vanish as the flames engulfed around her.

 _It is going to be a long day,_ he sighed.

* * *

X

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron was still the same as it had been when he had first entered the Wizarding world. Never changing remaining as ever watchful over the street it had once guarded so carefully.

It amused him how some things refused to change in the ever-changing world.

Despite no longer needing to guard the secret entrance to Diagon Alley, it still remained the heart of what had once been a single street of magical discoveries.

Diagon Alley had grown.

Expanded and adapted over the years. Instead of restricting itself to one street it had occupied for many years it had taken over several within the surrounding area, and it was still expanding.

And yet Diagon Alley was still its heart.

Perhaps it was because it had been a tradition for hundreds of years that first years once entered the Wizarding World through the hidden entrance outside of the Leaky Cauldron that he had chosen to take Holly that way.

But he wasn't that sentimental.

It was the most practical way to get to their first destination of Gringotts Bank.

Or at least that was what he had told himself, but the look of awe that had crossed the girls face upon seeing the magical world for the first time on an equal footing it was perhaps worth it coming the commoner's way.

A smile had crossed her lips, and her eyes had widened with a hint of glee as she took everything in, before she quickly shut herself down and placed her mask back on.

It was a skill he could perhaps admire in one her age, but at least he was getting a reaction that was something other than fear.

September was only a month away, and she was nowhere near ready. He had focused mainly on teaching her theory, history and hundreds of other topics. Everything she would need to survive the world but even so, a month was by no means long enough to teach her everything. He hadn't even started teaching her any magic yet.

"Try to keep up for the time being. We will have plenty of time to explore after we have been to Gringotts Bank," he said, keeping his pace steady as they walked past the various shops. "What do you know about Gringotts?"

"It's the only Wizarding Bank within Britain. It deals with all financial issues of the wizarding world and has several branches throughout the Empire. It is run by Goblins who control the flow of money," she panted, she was a little out of breath attempting to keep pace with him, and her head kept turning left and right as she tried to take everything in.

"Partly right. What do you know about Goblins?"

"They are slaves," she answered coldly.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at her. Her green eyes were staring up at him defiantly as if daring him to argue that they weren't.

He wasn't going to.

To a degree she was right. Goblins had been oppressed long before the Empire had arisen. Failed rebellions and a complicated history had left them a husk of their former selves. They wanted nothing more than to restore their nation to its former glory.

An impossible task.

And yet they had more freedom than most throughout the Empire. While they had remained neutral during the war they had the potential possibility of bringing the Empire to its knees should they feel wronged by Grindelwald.

Of course, Grindelwald would wipe them out of existence should they do so, though the damage would already have been done.

"I wouldn't voice that opinion too loudly. Especially in their hearing. The Goblins have more freedom than most. Now tell me what else you know."

She didn't answer straight away. As if pondering her words or her trail of thought.

"They have magic, but it's different from witches and wizards. They aren't allowed to use a wand. They are a warrior race; settle their debts either by blood, gold, magic or negotiations. They are tricky and despise Wizardkind. They follow the Old Ways more than Wizardkind does, and you should always tread carefully when entering negations with them."

"Good. Be cautious and courteous, and you should be fine," he confirmed.

"Why are we going to the Gringotts?"

"Money to pay for your school funds. And I do believe it is time to discover your parentage."

"My parentage?"

"You are a half-blood Holly. We need to know which family your name is from if nothing else."

She frowned but said nothing. Something he was grateful for as they continued on their way to Gringotts.

He held no love for Goblins, and he despised dealing with them more than he did any other race. Holly hadn't been wrong when she said they were tricky, refused to be charmed or intimidated.

Finally, they had reached the snowy white building which towered over the Alley. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors was the usual guard wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold.

Tom nodded politely before passing and taking his first steps into the building.

Gringotts was relatively quiet something he was pleased about and made his way to the nearest free counter.

"Merry Meet Lord Riddle." The goblin greeted.

"Merry Meet," he replied.

The goblin turned expectantly towards Holly as if waiting for her greeting.

"Ceud mìle fàilte," Holly said, her voice soft yet confident and it carried through the main hall.

He snapped his head back to look at her. He hadn't taught her the traditional greetings of the Old Way; he had never actually seen the need to learn though he was adept enough to recognise it. And while it wasn't in the Goblins own language, it was something they respected a little more than English. It was also something no Witch or Wizard ever spoke to with a Goblin. They weren't deemed worthy enough.

The Goblin at the counter stared intently at her, it didn't blink or move and neither did Holly.

She didn't even flinch, not showing any weakness as she tested her will against the goblin. He could feel her magic start to stir though and hoped she would gain control before a disaster happened.

The Goblin snapped a response back to her.

"Is mise Holly."

Another snapped response passed between them. Tom watched Holly frown ever so slightly, shake her head.

"Chan eil mi 'tuigsinn."

The Goblin nodded as if satisfied with the answer, before turning to look back at him.

Tom hated not knowing things, but whatever had passed between the two of them he could tell it was important.

"How may I serve today?"

"I would like to arrange a withdrawal from the Scholarship Vault for Hogwarts as well as arrange for a blood test." He answered

"And who do I charge the test too?"

"The Riddle Vault." He replied.

"Very well. Griphook!"

Another Goblin approached the counter and led them through one of the many doorways. No matter how many times he had been here, he doubted he would ever truly realise how big it actually was.

The goblins guarded their secrets well.

"Where did you learn the greetings of the old ways?" he questioned as the followed Griphook down a corridor.

"I read it in one of your books. I don't know it just sort of came to me as I read it. Just a few words here and there, but I thought it would be polite at least to use their preferred greetings since I don't speak their language." She shrugged.

It was a harmless really.

Practising what one had learnt was common, but most often or not people understood what they were doing.

He wasn't sure she had realised yet she had set something into motion that not even he could foresee.

And he didn't like that at all.

"Please do try and refrain from any other surprises today."

"Why is it a big deal?"

"No," He lied, though it wasn't really a lie. Speaking the language wasn't a big deal. Greeting the goblins with it was. Treating them as an equal, acknowledging them as an equal to her, that was the problem.

He could tell Griphook was listening carefully and decided for now that the matter was closed. He did not want to give the goblins anything else to speculate over or read into.

Finally, they reached the end of the corridor and entered a small chamber. In the middle of the room was an altar, already laid out everything that would be required.

"Why do I get the feeling that this isn't going to be as easy as a pinprick?" Holly asked.

He smirked, "Easier actually unless you're squeamish."

"And you do like to make people squirm. You're enjoying this aren't you?" she accused.

"Only a little." He admitted

"Has anyone ever told you you're a sociopath?"

"More than once, they rarely survived, though," he answered with a shrug, as he took the seat that had been provided for him.

"What do I need to do?" she finally asked. If she was hesitant or afraid she hid it far better than she hid her fear of magic.

"A single cut on your left palm will be sufficient. Once that has done, carefully place your hand on the altar in the area indicated. The results will happen almost instantly." Griphook answered.

"How will it know?"

"The altar is thousands of years old. Created during the Blood Wars. It remembers the magic in the blood and much like a self-updating family tree follows the traces until it finds a match." Griphook replied

Tom watched as Holly picked up the knife and made the single cut that was required. She didn't flinch, or squirm, she placed her hand palm down on the altar with minimal fuss.

The air sang with magic the moment her hand touched it.

It made the hair rise on the back of his neck.

It was pure and untainted, and it tasted delicious. His own magic uncoiled in response to the intensity that surrounded him. And yet it wasn't threatening.

It simply was.

And it was coming from Holly. Who remained completely oblivious to the power she was emanating.

"You may remove your hand now," Griphook stated.

Holly did so, and absently wiped her bloody hand on the sleeve of her new robe. He didn't bother to berate her for the action.

"The results?"

"I'm sure you will find fascinating Lord Riddle. I will give you a few moments before I come to collect you and take you down to your vault." Griphook answered, and he was sure he could hear a hint of amusement in the goblin's voice.

Or at least a goblins version of amusement.

He frowned and stood, slowly making his way towards the altar.

His eyes widened ever so slightly, as he saw Holly's blood having formed the perfect shape of a crest.

Holly was looking between him and the altar, the question was clear on her face to see.

Who was she?

He didn't answer. His own mind attempting to comprehend the results.

 _Well, that was fucking unexpected._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6 - What is Magic?**

Names had power.

They told both the world and the individual who they were, whom they belonged to.

Holly had never known her name before.

She was no-one. Belonged to no-one, had no-one that would stand by her side, no-one who would offer her comfort. Certainly, there had been people in the Warren that had known her as Holly, people she had interacted with and would offer her aid...if the price was right.

But the unconditional belonging that a name gave, she had never had that.

Rolling the new found name, a name that told her she belonged to someone, in her mind felt odd.

She had stopped being no-one and became someone.

Holly Black, she became Holly Black.

Holly Black who had a living family. Holly Black who belonged more in the Wizarding World than Holly ever had.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts of thinking of herself in the third person and followed Riddle through the marble hallway of Gringotts Bank.

He appeared surprised at the revelation of her heritage, even more than she had and he had been expecting a result.

She hadn't, she had been expecting the result to prove that she didn't have magic and it was all one big mistake. It had been in truth her last flicker of hope that _this_ was still a nightmare and not her reality.

 _But they did show something, and now you can no longer deny the truth in front of you._

And wasn't that bittersweet.

She wasn't a muggle.

Holly Black was a witch, and she was Holly Black.

Even now she still wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about it. How did one person go from thinking they are something to discovering that what they initially thought was a lie.

It was far too complicated to even think about.

And so she pushed _that_ twisted mess of knotted emotions into a box in the dark corners of her mind and firmly closed the lid.

She was a witch.

She would focus on that, focus on how she could _use_ it to her advantage. Now that the metaphorical axe was no longer hovering over her neck waiting to fall any second she could allow herself the time to breathe, think and plan.

Survive, learn and escape was all well and good as her own personal mantra but she needed more than that now.

Being a witch, in theory, should open more doors for her.

Doors _she_ had to be willing to use.

Of course, she had to find the right doors as well.

Her _name_ she supposed opened even more too.

Her family.

And wasn't that an alien thought in itself.

 _Family._

Discovering a name had been one thing, but realizing she had a living breathing family had left her feeling...numb.

She wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about it.

 _Happy. Excited. Relief that she was no longer alone._

She didn't feel any of that.

She wasn't sure she would ever feel happy or excited about it.

Riddle had said they were traditionalists in their pureblood ways...she was a half-blood. They would never accept her.

 _Not that I want them to. I don't need them...I am fine by myself._

She blinked through the glare of the sun as she stepped out of Gringotts and into the sunlight.

It looked different now.

The Alley that she had found so fascinating when she had first entered it, that was slowly starting to fill with morning shoppers.

 _It's not different, you are._

She wasn't sure how true the statement actually was. She didn't feel different, not really.

But she was different.

But then the world often carried on oblivious to the inner turmoil that people carried inside of them.

"We need to start collecting your school things."

She looked up at Riddle.

"Where are we going first?"

"I think we will start with your wand first, work backwards and avoid the rush. I would prefer for us to remain as anonymous as we can today."

He directed her down the steps and steered her through the growing crowds. Barely giving anyone a glance, though Holly couldn't help but notice _people_ were looking at him and in turn at her. It made her uncomfortable enough to keep pace with his stride.

And wasn't that a strange thought, finding comfort in his presence, but then better the devil you know than the devil you don't.

Eventually, he stopped outside a shop. It was narrow and shabby. With peeling gold letters over the door that read _Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC._ A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which Riddle surprisingly ignored choosing to lean against the wall.

She could see thousands of small boxes piled right up to the top of the ceiling as she looked around. Shelves upon shelves of them as far as she could see into the back of the shop. The back of her neck prickled. The very dust and silence seemed to tingle with ancient and secret magic.

"Good morning," a soft voice greeted.

She jumped ever so slightly surprised that she hadn't heard him coming. A mistake like that _would_ have meant death in the Warren. Not that she was a hundred percent certain it wouldn't mean death here either. She couldn't afford carelessness, especially in unknown territory and the heart of Magical London was as strange to her as anything could get.

 _Always be aware of your surroundings._

Riddle shot her an amused look, she caught it out the corner of her eye, and she couldn't help but throw him a look back that clearly said _shut up!_ His eyebrow raised and amusement shone that little brighter in his eyes.

 _At least someone is being entertained,_ she thought silently before turning her attention back to the man in front of her. He had used her distraction with Riddle to his advantage by stepping closer to her. She swallowed the urge to step back and regain some distance between them, refusing to show either one of them how much it bothered her.

"Hello," she answered.

The man looked at her inquisitively, with wide pale eyes that were shining like moons, through the gloom of the shop. She felt the weight of his gaze and it took all of her willpower not to flinch.

He stepped closer to her and closer until they were almost nose to nose.

"Interesting...I see..."

"You see what?" She couldn't help but ask.

"Curious thing, very curious," he muttered to himself before completely dropping the matter, shaking his head and looking in Riddle's direction for the first time.

"Ah Lord Riddle," he greeted, "I remember giving you your wand a long time ago."

Holly glanced at the man; he seemed indifferent to the whole show.

"Yes, Yew thirteen and a half inches, phoenix feather as its core. A powerful wand," Ollivander muttered just loud enough for them both to hear.

He shook his head.

"Which is your wand arm?"

Holly held up her right hand. He measured her from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round her head. Inside she was cringing. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such a good result with another witches' wand."

He had stopped measuring her and was happily humming to himself as he filtered through the shelves and began pulling boxes down. There didn't seem to be a pattern to which box he pulled and which he left on the shelves, or at least not one she could see.

"Right Miss, try this one," he declared handing her the first wand to try, "Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Holly took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Ollivander snatched it out of her hand almost at once.

"No, no, that just won't do."

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Very whippy. Try – oh dear,"

The wand had bucked in her hand the moment she grasped it, and a potted plant in the corner met an untimely end in an explosion of singed leaves.

Holly tried again and again. She had no idea what Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands he pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

She shot a glance at Riddle, silently watching from the sidelines. He raised an eyebrow at her, and their eyes met.

For a brief second, a silent conversation seemed to pass between them, one that didn't need to be voiced but was still heard at the same time.

 _See I'm not a witch._

 _Don't be absurd. Finding the right wand to fit your magic takes time. Other factors are always taken in._

 _Did it take you this long to find your wand?_

 _No._

And then just as quickly as the conversation had started it was over, and Ollivander pulled her attention away from Riddle as he put another wand into her hand.

She had lost count at how many wands she had tried.

Lost count at how many explosions she had caused, how many wands that seemed to reject her. On and on it went, until the chair was no longer visible and wand boxes were currently scattered everywhere.

"I wonder...It _is_ possible. Rare but not impossible," Ollivander muttered to himself. He returned seconds later with a box wrapped in something that looked to be black silk.

He slowly handed her the wand, "Holly. Phoenix feather. Eleven inches, nice and supple."

It looked beautiful. Elegantly crafted as the pale wood twisted gracefully together. Carved into the wood at the base of the wand were small delicate vines and leaves.

Nervously she took the wand in her hand.

The instant her hand made contact with the wand a warm sensation spread through her; alive and energetic. Her magic, as it was the only possible explanation as to what it could be, _thrummed_ and the wand _thrummed_ right back. Sparks emanated from its tip in a variety of colours, reds, gold's, and silvers. It felt pure, and so much more. It was hers and her magic practically vibrated agreement. It felt perfect.

"Oh bravo. Well, I do believe we have found your match." Ollivander was smiling at her, but it seemed strained for some reason. "How curious," he muttered as he wrapped up the wand for her.

"What's curious?" she asked, her own curiosity spiking at the wand that her magic had manifestly declared its own.

"It is a rare combination holly and phoenix feather. Holly wood is an unpredictable wood, and useful for dealing with impetuous emotions. It's also quite protective and usually, chooses a witch or wizard who is engaged in a dangerous or spiritual quest," he paused as he looked at her. She could feel the question he didn't voice and she wanted to deny it but couldn't.

"A phoenix's allegiance is hard won; they are the most independent creatures that are capable of both great detachment and great initiative. Combining the aloof nature of the Phoenix with the passionate nature of the Holly usually results in disaster. And yet it has been noted when such an ideal match has been found nothing and no one should stand in their way."

He looked her very carefully in the eyes.

"I will not lie to you this wand was meant for great things. The Phoenix whose feather resides in you wand gave another, just one other. When two wands share the origin of a core, magnificent things are known to happen. I wonder what this connection will mean for the both of you."

"And who has the other wand?" she asked.

"Why its brother wand, is none other than Lord Riddle," Ollivander smiled, his eyes glistening with amusement over the secret he had just shared. Maybe he had done it for his own reasons or perhaps to forewarn her she couldn't say for certain.

She snapped round so quick and looked at Riddle.

Anger blazed in his eyes.

He looked like he wanted to kill Ollivander there and then. He was pale, deadly pale but he refused to look at her.

He thrust the money into Ollivander's hand before turning and storming out the shop without so much of a backwards glance.

"Your mother and father were extraordinary people Miss. Your secrets are your own but do try and remember where you actually come from; it wouldn't do to lose your way along the path you have chosen. As they say, stare long enough into the abyss, and the abyss looks into you."

She looked back at Ollivander with a frown.

"You knew my mother and father?"

"The same way I know every witch and wizard. You have your mother's eyes though I am confident not many people will recall that fact."

"I'm a half-blood, my mother was a muggle," She argued.

"Not everything is as it seems, or as straightforward as black and white. Remember that. I do believe we will see great things from you, Miss Black."

She didn't respond.

She was meant for great things? She wasn't sure she believed that. Or the fact that her mother was anything but what her blood had indicated. Blood didn't lie, couldn't lie. Could it?

She had only just discovered her family name and yet she was already beginning to question it.

 _I have my mother's eyes._

Just who was her mother? Who were her parents?

Maybe Ollivander was mistaken. He was old after all. And yet she couldn't help but feel that niggle that said there was more truth to his words than she wanted.

 _Remember._

Ever since Riddle had poked around in her head she had been having dreams that were showing something was missing and now someone was saying she needed to remember but what exactly did she need to remember.

Shared cores? Great things?

Riddle.

The best thing she could do was forget. Forget the words of an old man who seemed to know who she was better than she did. Forget great things and shared cores. The best she could do was focus on the present. She certainly had enough to be getting on with.

 _Survive. Learn. Escape._

The words were becoming her own personal mantra, and yet despite her best efforts to forget as she walked out of Ollivander's attempting to catch up with Riddle, questions still circled in her mind.

 _If my mother was a witch and not a muggle, was the blood test a lie?_

 _And if I'm not a Black, then who am I?_

* * *

X

* * *

Holly eyed her wand nervously.

It had been over two days since she had claimed ownership over the thing.

 _Or it claimed ownership of me,_ she mused.

Despite re-reading Magical Theory she had yet buckled up the courage to attempt a spell by herself and Riddle had yet to indicate whether he was going to teach her any spells before she went to Hogwarts.

Lessons had continued as normal, but there had been no mention of wands, magic or shared cores. Something it seemed they both wanted to avoid discussing.

An alien thought in itself.

And yet she couldn't stop thinking about her wand and how it had felt when she had first touched it.

The moment she had touched the wand she had felt the hum of magic pulse beneath her skin. Had felt the warmth spread from within her, starting at her chest and spreading right down to her toes. She wasn't entirely sure she was giving the feeling real justice by describing it as warm, but that was what it had felt like. But it was almost as if both the wand and _her_ own magic had claimed ownership of each other. She had felt it at the very core of herself and knew without certainty that none other in that shop would do.

But while she now had her own wand, it still begged the question that had been gnawing at her mind for weeks. What exactly was magic?

Silently to herself, she would almost say it was alive and sentiment.

She knew that it was power. She knew it was what set Wizardkind apart from the Muggles. She knew it gave them the abilities to do things that should have been impossible.

But she didn't know what it was.

And despite reading various books in the four weeks she had been at Riddle Manor and listening to what Riddle was actually telling her, she was still no closer to discovering the actual answer.

"It won't bite."

Holly shot her head round. Riddle was casually standing in the doorway of the library, watching her carefully; a small amused smirk graced his face though she wasn't entirely sure what she had done to amuse him now.

Not that she really needed to do much; she either annoyed him or amused him a majority of the time.

"What won't bite?"

"You're wand. You are staring at it like it's a coiled viper going to strike any second," Riddle answered softly, "You can pick it up and give it a wave and nothing will happen. It takes more than just wand gestures and words to wield magic."

She frowned.

"I don't understand."

"Nothing will happen because you don't want anything to happen. Not deep down. If wielding magic was as easy as simply waving a wand around and saying a spell anybody could do it. Even _muggles,_ " He paused as he walked towards her. "While the wand is magical, crafted from chosen wood and has a magical core, it isn't the wand that wields the magic. It is you. The wand is the tool to help focus your own magic. The core simply allows the magic to flow that much easier while you are learning."

"But I didn't do anything in Ollivander's."

"No, but your magic connected with the core's magic slowly beginning the process of bonding. Wandlore is a complicated branch of magic and not even those who study it fully understand it, but magic isn't as simple as wand waving and saying the right spells. It is about intent and a _willingness_ to use magic. If you do not have the intent or a desire to use magic you won't."

"Intent and willingness?"

"You have to believe. You have to want and visualise the specific effects you want to happen. And then you have to _will_ it to happen."

Holly picked up her wand. She didn't feel the same thrum she had when she had first held the wand. In truth, she felt nothing.

"Every witch and wizard have an affinity to magic. We can feel it in some way. Some more than others have a stronger relationship...more powerful sensing shall we say. But this affinity is what allows us to use magic and direct it. To know when magic has been cast or is being cast near us. It makes it possible to know before we even see the effects of a curse or spell that it was cast properly or not. It in time gives us an instinctive ability to sense its flow through our wands and our very body and allows us to cast spells without giving much thought between one spell and the next. A useful skill to have when duelling."

"You said some have a stronger affinity to magic."

"Indeed. With enough practice, skill, power over time, you will be able to cast spells silently and even wandless magic. But it takes highly disciplined and powerful witches and wizards to do so. Power without control is worthless in all cases however and should be something you never forget. After all, you can have all the right components and still not actually use magic properly simply due to laziness on your part."

Holly tilted her head slightly looking down at her wand, while still keeping Riddle in her line of sight. She wanted to ask the question that had been gnawing at her mind but was hesitant to do so. Riddle hadn't exactly liked some of her questions in the past and whilst some of her answers or even opinions had been viewed with amusement some _had not._

"What do you want to ask?"

Once again it seemed he had read her too well. Been watching her too closely. She was going to have to seriously assess what tells could possibly be giving her away in the comfort and privacy of her room.

"What is magic?"

"What do the books say it is?"

She sighed, "It doesn't really go into any detail. It explains about the different areas of magic, various studies but it doesn't explain what magic is."

"What do you think it is?"

She shrugged a little, "I don't know. What I felt in the arena I could only describe it as...as energy. It is energy that allows witches and wizards to effect change in the world."

"To some it is. There is no right or wrong answer. Depending on who you ask will depend on the answer you are given. Those who truly give thought to the study of magic come up with possibilities and theories, but even they don't really know. Others just presume it _is_ and use it as a tool."

"So if it is energy where does it come from?"

"Magic is a natural force no one can say where it actually came from. It simply is. It is a driving force of creation, and it is limitless. Embedded directly it gives its wielders the ability to affect and change the world."

"That still doesn't explain what it is, though."

He sighed and looked at her.

"It is life. Magic is the essence of life and creation. It is what binds all things together. It is all around you. It is woven into the very fabric of the world."

"If it binds all things together why can only Witches and Wizards use it?"

"Magic is in our blood, our hearts and our souls. We are born with it. _Muggles_ aren't. Magic runs through our veins and is passed from generation to generation," He paused as if thinking of something. "Perhaps a practical lesson would be more beneficial for you than only discussing it."

"A practical lesson?"

"Yes. Go and get your cloak and meet me in the entrance hall. Do not dawdle."

She stood up, picking up the book she had been reading and moved towards the door.

"Snow, do not forget to bring your wand. Needless to say, it would be pointless without it."

She nodded once with book and wand in her hand before making her way to her room.

A practical lesson, she wouldn't deny she was both a little apprehensive and a little excited.

* * *

Holly waited patiently in the Entrance Hall, though she didn't have to wait long. Riddle was one for punctuality and generally ended up chiding her for her lack of it.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"You will see when we arrive."

She frowned. She had never really been good at surprises. Hated having the control of her circumstances been taken away from her. _That and you can never plan properly for the environment you are going to be in._

"We are going to be travelling differently today, though."

"How?"

"Side-apparition," he replied, "I need to you to take my hand."

She hesitated.

Contact with others hadn't exactly been encouraged in any aspect of her life and was typically avoided any chance she could. If someone was close enough to touch you, then they were close enough to do some series harm. She looked at him, saw amusement curling his lips and dancing across his eyes.

"Are you afraid?"

It was a challenge.

She knew it was. Riddle was baiting her to see how she would react. Whether to amuse himself or to only see what buttons he could push with her. She instantly felt herself bristle at the thought.

She hated being played with.

 _Don't rise to it. Take his hand and ignore the question._

Slowly she took his hand. His hand closed around hers and for the first time made her acutely aware of just how big he was in comparison to her. Her hand felt tiny in his, delicate and vulnerable.

She didn't like it.

She had already placed him in the dangerous category because of his magic, but feeling the difference as his hand engulfed hers made her put him in the _physically dangerous_ category as well.

 _If only I had my knife._

Not that it would really do much good to her but it would at least give her the comfort of knowing it was there.

"Hold on tight. Letting go isn't an option. Do not be foolish to try and pull away."

She nodded once.

"Ready."

She tensed.

She wasn't sure what was going to happen.

The world disappeared from sight as her eyeballs felt they were being forced back into her head. She was being pressed hard from all directions, and she couldn't breathe.

She wanted it to stop, wanted to stop the iron bands that seemed to be tightening around her chest with every breath she took.

She needed it to stop, she felt something snap inside of her, pushing itself against whatever was suffocating her.

It felt wrong.

Like she was being pushed through a straw and spat out the other side.

And just as quickly as it had begun it stopped.

She was flung to the ground the moment it stopped.

She was panting for breath on her knees, and she could feel Riddle's anger swirling around him like an icy storm.

"What. The. Fuck. Did. You. Do?" Riddle hissed, his tone had gone quiet, deadly quiet.

"I didn't do anything," She wheezed.

 _Breathe. Just breathe._

"You were fighting me. Every inch of the way _you_ and your _magic_ were fighting me. Do you have any idea what could have happened if I had broken my concentration." He hissed. His voice had gone so cold and quiet. He didn't need to raise his voice, hell he didn't even need to shout to tell her just how angry he was. "We could have ended up stuck in a tree or in the middle of the fucking sea or splinched!"

"SHUT UP!" she screamed.

Her heart was racing beneath her breastbone, she was panting, and her stomach was turning. All she wanted to do was be sick, and it was taking all her willpower not to be.

Looking at Riddle, she could see his eyes had changed to the crimson they had been at the arena. His lips had twisted in a snarl and anger was clearly written across his face, but he had, in fact, shut up.

"You didn't prepare me for that. It felt like I was being pushed back into myself and I wanted it to stop, I just wanted it to end. You didn't give any explanation for how we were travelling. If you had even given a thought to tell me what to expect perhaps, I wouldn't have fucking panicked so much."

He looked like he wanted to kill her.

He looked like he wanted to end whatever devious plot he was dragging her through and be done with it.

He didn't do anything. He stayed perfectly still and didn't say a word. He just looked at her.

The weight of his gaze made her want to shuffle, but she didn't. She remained equally still, afraid that the slightest movement would cause him to explode at her once again.

The seconds ticked by, turning into minutes. Holly wasn't entirely sure how long she sat there kneeling on the ground while Riddle stared at her, but it felt like hours.

He took a step forward, and her whole body tensed in preparation for what was to come.

He surprised her when he offered her his hand.

Warily she took it, and he pulled her up. He didn't say a word, but his anger had seemed to have lessened significantly, his eyes were slowly turning back from red, and the air didn't seem quite so heavy or cold.

"Come on. We don't have far to walk." He let go of her hand and walked off.

He didn't punish her.

Nor did he apologise.

But then she got the impression he wasn't the type of person to apologise or admit he was wrong.

The silent offer of a hand was all she was going to get, but she took it to mean that she was right and he was wrong.

That he was apologising in a different way without ever voicing the words.

She didn't follow straight away. She took a moment to look around at her surroundings.

She could hear the sound of waves and the cries of birds. She could smell the salty sea air. Wherever they were, they were by the sea, though all she could see was grass.

 _You could make a run for it._

 _I don't know where I am. I have no supplies, and I could be miles from any civilisation_.

 _You could still try. You don't have to stay._

Shaking her head from her thoughts, she took off in the direction Riddle had gone. Now wasn't the time to make a hasty decision.

* * *

It didn't take long for her to catch up with him. Though he made no acknowledgement that she was there and she opted to stay silent. She took the time as they walked to enjoy the fresh air. Having lived in the Warren for so long, she had forgotten really what it felt like to be outside and not smell the decay of human waste, and the rot that seemed to have taken hold in the Warren. It was oddly refreshing.

Eventually, on the horizon, she could see the outline of a structure and in the background was the sea.

"Where are we?"

"Cornwell. More precisely Tintagel Castle."

"Is that where we are going?"

"Close enough. Wards stop anyone from apparating within the area, where we appeared was as close as we would be able to get to."

"Why here?" she asked, as she attempted to keep her pace with him.

"Can't you feel it?" he answered, raising his eyebrow at her ever so slightly. She couldn't tell if he was mocking her or whether it was a genuine question. He didn't give her time to answer.

"The area seeps with magic. Old magic. Powerful magic. Has been for centuries."

"But why?"

He didn't answer, he just kept walking. Slowly the castle came into view or what was left of one. Holly wasn't sure why he had brought her here, but she was eager to find out. Her eyes scanned ahead, taking in the stone walls and small circular areas that once would have been towers instead of just the base that remained. She could see it clearly in her mind, from the broken structure and dotted stones just how big it would have been... the castle on the edge of the cliff. It would have been impressive in its day.

Unsurprisingly Riddle didn't stop in the remains of the castle. Instead, he carried on a well-travelled path through an arch and towards what remained of a walkway down to the beach. The tide was low revealing a small alcove of golden sand as waves rolled back and forth on the shoreline.

"For years people have been fascinated with this place. Both Wizard and Muggle alike. Muggles because of the myths or at least the myths they believed to be little more than stories. For us though its meaning is far more significant."

"Why?"

"Below is a cave. It's called Merlin's Cave. Its true name lost even to us, but once upon a time a wizard claimed it as his own for a time. The reason a mystery but what we do know is the time he spent here changed him."

"Merlin as in King Arthur's Merlin?"

"Heard the stories have you?" he snorted.

"There was a woman in the Warren that liked to tell stories about the King that would return."

"That story would hold some meaningless hope to some muggles, a returning King, a saviour to save them from their suffering and bring back the light into the world. They existed, once long ago, though I doubt the truth of what actually happened between them all was ever really written down, even our own records are a little vague."

"History is written by the conquerors."

"An accurate statement. If not somewhat cynical for someone your age," He replied, "Merlin went to Hogwarts, and after his time there he did come here for a while though his reasoning was his own. While the muggles clambered over the place because of the myths; wizards and witches have travelled here to for their own reasons. Some to feel the high concentration in magic, others just to clear their mind."

"Have you been here before?"

"It is of little importance if I have," He answered softly. "Come on, we have to clamber over some boulders the rest of the way."

He had avoided the question she noted, but then he was right in part it didn't really matter if he had been here before. It didn't change anything that she was doing today, it held no significance other than to satisfy her own curiosity about the man that seemed to be dictating her life.

She followed his step moving over the boulders. Wet and cold from the sea but they soon did quick work, and her feet touched the sand below. She could see the cave's mouth in front of them.

It didn't exactly look inviting.

"The tide is on its way out, so we have some time."

"What are we doing?"

"We are going into the cave, and you are going to attempt to practice sensing magic. Finding your affinity to it, allowing you feel it run through both you and the cave. If you can learn to feel the magic you can learn to control it when wielding it." He answered before walking towards the cave.

Holly wasn't sure it was a good idea exactly, but she had little choice but to follow him.

She paused at its mouth and observed. The light caught droplets of water on the walls and made them glisten like diamonds; it was both beautiful and eerie.

She took a deep breath and stepped into the cave. Her body shivered, as she had briefly passed through a cold spot in the air. It was bigger than she expected and she didn't feel quite so enclosed in. She took another step and another, slowly making away across the wet rocks beneath her feet.

It was colder than outside, and the further they travelled from the entrance the darker it became.

Riddle stopped suddenly. "Here will do."

He turned to look at her, "I want you to close your eyes and listen."

She threw him a look but followed his instructions and closed her eyes.

She took a deep breath and listened.

And waited.

She could hear the sea - the waves.

She could hear the gulls crying.

Her own breathing.

Nothing that stood out as being anything but ordinary.

"I don't hear anything." She said, opening her eyes.

"Don't listen with your ears, listen with your whole body, with everything."

"Listen with everything?" she frowned. "I don't understand."

"You know when you have a minor injury or a headache?" Riddle asked, his voice still quiet and soothing, "And you have taken a pain relief potion to make the pain go away?"

"You mean like the potions you have given me?"

"Yes. Remember the few minutes after taking the pain relief potion, and you focus on the place in your body where the pain was, and you sort of _listening_ to that spot, to see if the pain's gone yet. You sense it out for a better understanding."

"Okay..."

"Now do that with your skin. Listen or shall we say sense what your skin and body is feeling, and then extend those senses further to feel the air in the room. To feel the magic." He paused, "You are a witch, and you know instinctively what to do even if you don't think you do. I want you to learn to listen to what your instincts are saying and follow it. Follow the magic."

She wasn't sure what the hell he was talking about but seeing no other option she closed her eyes again and took a deep breath.

Riddle wanted her to listen with more than just her ears. She wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that.

She could feel the slightest breeze playing with a loose strand of her hair. It tickled her cheek, and she shivered.

Tiny little shivers that travelled down her spine.

Her arms prickled with goose bumps.

She wasn't cold, it was almost as if something was on the air, something she couldn't see, but felt like it was just out of reach.

She couldn't hear anything.

Nothing but the sea, and gulls, and the occasional trickle of water on the cave walls.

She could smell the dampness of the sea, the sea salt in the air.

She could taste it in her mouth with every breath she took.

She inhaled and exhaled.

She let her mind focus on her breathing, the slow inhale and exhale of her breath. The sound of her steady heartbeat and let the whole world slide away.

She couldn't say how long she stood there.

How long she listened.

How long she waited.

Until she heard it.

The softest hum that filled her ears.

It was sweet, soft and light.

It filled her with warmth.

A warm presence that seemed to be just inside of her gathering up her worries and taking them away from her. It wasn't uncomfortable exactly...but it felt different.

Slowly moving down each leg, moving past joints and muscles easing any tension that may have been there that she wasn't even aware of. Her toes curled in her shoes as she felt heat surround her feet.

And then she felt it.

Something waking up inside of her.

So deep inside of her, she doubted she would ever be able to claw it out if she wanted to.

Once again something flipped inside of her stomach.

It uncurled like a sleeping animal, and suddenly she was filled with something else.

It felt like electricity was running through her body, lightening her up from the inside. It felt like it had in the arena, only not so intense.

Softer.

She felt alive.

It was energy.

It was _magic_.

She could feel it singing inside her blood, running through her veins.

Fatigue had gone before she had even known she had been feeling tired, instead replaced with energy that was sparkling through her. She was floating, floating in a sea of power and magic that had engulfed her like a cocoon, and she was lapping it up.

Her eyes snapped open suddenly, and everything around her looked much brighter and much more intense with colour. The cave walls seemed to shimmer almost as if they had their own supply of magic. It was thick and flowing like waterfalls.

Waterfalls of fire.

"It's beautiful," she whispered softly. She could hear the wonder in her own tone.

"Can you feel it?"

"Yes." She giggled. She never giggled.

"Good. I want you to concentrate on that feeling, on how it flows through you and through the cave." He paused, "Take your wand. Feel it flow through you into the wand and say the word _Lumos_ , you need to swish your wand in a loop from left to right. Gently. Feel it and believe in it Snow. _Will_ it to happen."

Her wand was thrumming.

Her magic was thrumming.

She didn't think; she didn't hesitate.

She swished her wand, " _Lumos."_ She could feel her wand vibrating in her hand. Could feel the magic trickle into her wand.

She could almost see it like currents of golden light.

And then nothing.

No magic burst. No sparkles.

Absolutely nothing.

" _Will_ it to happen. Wand movements and words aren't enough. You can see the magic around you. You can feel it. Will it into the spell. _Will_ it into existence."

She took a deep breath.

She could still feel the magic inside of her, could still see it.

She closed her eyes and focused. Focused on grasping the magic and bending it to her will. She could almost feel it crackling in her fingertips.

 _"Lumos!"_ and she pushed.

She pushed with everything she had.

The magic flowed; it didn't trickle like her first attempt...it flooded.

Her wand blazed with light.

Bright white light.

It was blinding.

It filled the cave with an intensity that made her want to shield her eyes.

A hand gripped hers, " _Nox,"_ and the connection with her wand and with magic snapped. She staggered back into a body and felt the heat of Riddle emanating from him.

He was standing too close.

Far too close for her comfort. She _hated_ people being in her personal space.

He stepped back letting go of her hand in the process, and her wand arm dropped to her side.

"Excellent for your first time. We will need to work on your control, so you don't push too much magic into every spell, but it is a start. From here we can begin working on your spell work."

She looked at the cave, the walls had gone back to their original darkness, and she could no longer feel the magic running through her or the cave.

She looked up at Riddle, "Is it always like that?"

"Using magic. Over time it will lessen for everyday spells, but for the stronger spells it is always like that."

She looked back down at her wand.

Did she really want to learn?

The answer surprised her. Yes, she wanted to learn. She _wanted_ to learn magic.

And she wasn't sure whether it was just for survival sake.

She looked back at Riddle.

"When do we start?"

* * *

XXX

* * *

The shadows clung to him like they were armour. A layer of protection he needed as he carefully observed the street he had grown up on. It had changed considerably over the last decade. Most of it had been abandoned, left to the growing darkness that was the Empire.

Of course, it had been a street full of muggles when he had been a boy.

Now he could see only a few houses that still had lights on in the windows.

 _We have gained new neighbours since the war has ended._

Silently he brought his eyes back to the one place he wished he didn't have to go.

 _Home._ Though it had never been home, just a childhood house that had more painful memories than good ones.

From the outside, he could see it had changed a little. Expanded even, eating up number eleven and thirteen as if they had never been there before.

He detested the place.

Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

The black hole he had been trying to run from since he was old enough to be able to think well enough for himself. And now...now he was willingly walking back into the place.

 _You have no choice. If you want Holly to remain safe, you need to bring those who could reveal the lie into line. Regardless of how much you may hate it, you are doing this for her._

Wearily he sighed.

It had been non-stop for the last month. Ever since the meeting with the Goblins, never staying in one place long enough as he slowly gathered the things he needed, now he was at his final stop for the current time being. Everything else was in place, waiting and ready for the next phase. He just had this one last task to complete, and he would at the very least be able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Or give him the much-needed breathing space for a few weeks.

He glanced down at the news clipping clutched in his hand. The news clipping that revealed to the Wizarding World that _he_ had a daughter.

A small lie, but a far safer one than the truth.

He looked back at the house and took a step forward.

He felt the wards close around him. It may have slowly expanded, but his brother hadn't added any new protection to the wards. _Not that he needs to. It is safe and secure enough now._

 _So far so good,_ he silently mused before walking up the steps to the front door.

He didn't bother knocking, there was no need to. He placed his hand on the silver serpent that worked as a knocker and whispered, "Open," pushing a little bit of his magic into the command and hoping beyond hope that it would be enough to gain him entrance.

For a brief second, nothing happened.

 _Did the magic not recognise him as the magical heir? As it had done so many years ago. Had it really been too long?_

As doubt crept through him, the magic pulsed ever so slightly before the door swung open.

Sirius let out a sigh of relief and quickly stepped inside. He had passed the first test at the very least, and he only needed one more confirmation that he was the heir, and then he could relax for the time being. If he wasn't...well he wasn't sure what he could possibly do. Grabbing Holly and running for the hills was no longer an option now.

He glanced around the front entrance before slowly making his way down to the kitchen. Regulus hadn't changed much of the decor, but it seemed he had somehow made the house feel more homely. It wasn't just a house for show; it was a home that people lived in. _His brother and nephew._

He couldn't quite wrap his mind around that one. Almost ten years on the run and a further five before the war had ended. He hadn't seen his brother in fifteen years other than on the battlefield and opposing sides. It wasn't a reunion he was looking forward to, or even wanted and yet there was nothing either of them could do to avoid it.

He _needed_ Regulus.

To keep Holly safe he needed his brother.

He knew it wasn't going to be easy, which is why everything depended on the next few moments.

A familiar pop signalled the arrival of the elf. The old being took him in with a glare. "You are not welcome here, filthy traitor."

"Silence Kreacher!" he snapped back, calling all his magic to him and pushing it into the words. Regulus may be the legal owner of the house. The legal on the paper heir to the Black fortune, _after Holly now_ , he silently added, but magically _he_ was the recognised heir.

He hoped.

Kreacher instantly obeyed. Though the look he shot towards him confirmed it was done under protest.

Okay so the house elf obeyed, he just had one thing left to do.

He reached for his magic.

"I am Sirius Orion Black, magical heir to the Black Magic."

The words blazed with red fire. A powerful spasm gripped him. His lungs constricted, the room blurred, and through the dense, the beating of his own heart sounded like the toll of a bell. This was it; he could either claim it or let it kill him. Only the heir could ride this tidal wave and come out unscathed. As a child, it had terrified him when the ancient magic that had run through his family for generations had come to his call at the simplest commands. His mother and father had been incredibly pleased with at the time but then had been disappointed that such a gift had been wasted on him. But even when they had thrown him out, blasted him out of their lives _they_ hadn't been able to take this away from him. Only he or the magic could do that.

James had talked him out of turning his back on it completely, and it was something he was more than grateful for now as it could be used to save his goddaughter's life. A tangle of forces swirled around him, catching him in a twisted mess of slippery, elastic power currents. He reached out and gripped them, and they carried him forth, far into the amalgam of light and sound and magic.

Pure magic.

The light permeated him and burst through his mind, sending a myriad of sparks through his skin. The blood in his veins was like molten metal.

He was lost. Lost in the whirlwind of magic.

 _Black magic._

It whispered to him; _the lost son returned. Welcome home. Why did you abandon us? It has been too long? Claim us, prove you are worthy. Prove you are the heir._

He opened his mouth, struggling to release his magic with a word. It wouldn't come, and for a brief moment, he let the idea that he was going to die flicker across his mind. He was failing.

Failing Holly.

 _NO!_

He opened his mouth and whispered the word, pouring every ounce of his magic into it. Claiming the Black magic as his and his alone. _He_ was the magical heir no one else.

 _"Sinqele!" Mine._

The world stopped spinning, and the magic settled over his skin with a single whisper _welcome home master._

"You! You are not worthy to claim what is not rightfully yours! The filthy traitor has taken ownership of what's not his to take." Kreacher squealed at him.

"SILENCE!"

Kreacher mouth snapped shut quicker than he thought possible. The air lay thick and heavy with his command and the magic that was seeped into the very foundation of the house tightened and coiled waiting to strike out at those who would disobey its master.

He had done it. He could feel that now.

He was the Black Heir, and it meant he would be able to obtain Regulus silence through an order should he not be able to coax his brother to stay silent for the benefit of them all.

He let go of the breath he hadn't realised he had been holding for the entire time.

He had ensured Holly's safety for a little while longer.

As far as the rest of the world was concerned, she was nothing more than a Black. _His daughter._ And that was how it needed to stay.

Carefully he placed his backpack on the table and removed a dark black box that was elegantly carved on all sides. It wasn't that much bigger than a jewellery box though it contained something far more precious than jewels. The carvings weren't exactly pleasant to look at but considering what it was and what it was for he expected nothing less. He had everything he needed to eventually break the seal on it. There was only one final thing needed and the time wasn't right for Holly to be there.

He would need to wait, and hope that he had done enough to ensure her safety.

She would be going to Hogwarts soon, and despite the circumstances, he knew she would be safe there. Even now in this darkened world, Hogwarts was still considered the safest place to be. _Despite its Headmaster._

Wearily he slumped down on the chair and let himself take comfort in the silence. He was as safe from harm here as he could be.

 _I've done it, Lily, I've done what you asked, I kept her safe for as long as I could. I kept her hidden. I just hope you can forgive me for how everything has turned out and who she has had to become._

XX

I have taken inspiration from various sources, though the main driving plot for the first year really comes from an episode of Merlin (which I won't reveal just yet) though Merlin as a whole has inspired me along the way throughout the whole of this story and along with one of the books by an Author: Maria V Snyder.

Other explorations into magic will come from various sources as well, using Power words from Ilona Andrews as just one example.

I will be using many languages from different sources such as Tolkien, Christopher Paolini, Merlin, Vampire Diaries as well as using Welsh, Latin, Gaelic, Greek etc as I explore in more detail the concept of magic and the different types that will be revealed or explored throughout the story.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7 - **A Beginning**

The girl was a puzzle.

He couldn't deny that, an intriguing puzzle that he wanted to unravel and dissect until he understood everything about her. Worked out exactly what made her tick, what drove her forward, what made her pause and what could destroy her? And once he had unravelled the mystery that was Holly Black he would put her all together again, shaping and moulding what he wanted into her foundation until she was something else entirely.

She was a puzzle.

A challenge.

And one he intended to conquer.

He wasn't a fool, he could see past her sudden interest and desire into learning magic, a desire he _knew_ was genuine but at the heart of that desire lay something else. A desire for freedom.

Holly Black wanted to be free of the Wizarding World.

Or rather free of the Empire.

It was an ambition he could perhaps admire if it didn't conflict with his own plans for her and one he fully intended to break her of.

He couldn't deny she was doing an excellent job in disguising her desire. Her goals.

If not for the fleeting thoughts that sometimes strayed from her mind when they made eye contact the exact nature of her sudden interest would remain unknown to him. Oh, he would still know she was up to something, though the truth would remain a mystery to him until she slipped up.

And she would have eventually.

Her age and her lack of experience in dealing with the movements and dances of the Game and those consistently playing meant a slip up was inevitable but now he was at the very least forewarned.

"My Lord."

Tom looked towards Lucius, lost in his own thoughts he had tuned out those around him, and was now acutely aware of his follower's eyes looking at him.

Expectantly.

"Lucius." He nodded, signalling for the man to continue.

"The Minister Adjunct has returned from the mainland and is now aware of your..." the man paused as if stuck for the right word.

"Charge. Ward. House guest. Really Lucius, any of them along with a great many others, would do to describe Holly Black," He smiled in amusement, as a few of his guests shifted uncomfortably; a snort of disgust forced him to turn towards Bellatrix Lestrange. He knew she was unhappy with the discovery of her cousin's heir.

Lucius nodded once, "Of course My Lord. He wishes to hold a press conference with yourself and your...ward."

"No," Tom said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"And what would you like me to tell him My Lord, he has read the article revealing the girl's..." Lucius paused casting a wary look towards his sister-in-law.

Inwardly Tom smirked. Bellatrix was not happy or impressed with the news of Black's offspring. Something she had made clear once already by drawing wands with Rosier who had been foolish enough to mention it. _Or perhaps deliberately said. Rosier has always enjoyed other people's drama and relished in the chaos he can cause._

"Heritage?" he supplied with a smile.

"...Your charge's heritage. Illegitimate or not there is a high possibility of her being the Black Heir and he wants to have control of the situation in ensuring her loyalty to him and in turn the Emperor."

"Of course he does," He sighed, mentally cursing the person responsible for the leak of her heritage, and debating whether it would be beneficial to hunt them down and make them hurt.

Amusing perhaps but a waste of resources if he was going, to be honest. Maybe an issue he would deal with later.

"He wants to control the Black fortune. If he can control the girl, then _he_ gains a great alley."

"Stupidity!" Bellatrix hissed, "The blood traitor was disowned, Regulus is the Heir. She is nothing more than a filthy half-blood bastard."

"Black was never legally disowned. He was thrown out, but Orion never disowned him," He answered firmly; "It is why Regulus was unable to gain full access to the Black funds during the War to help the cause. So Lucius is correct she could possibly be the Heir."

"Impossible. The Black Magic would never choose one so unworthy as a half-blood."

"Her mother's blood was inconclusive."

"My Lord?" Lucius questioned.

"The blood test never revealed her mother's blood just her Black bloodline. Which correct me if I am wrong typically means that someone has used powerful blood magic to conceal it. It takes a considerable amount of power to hide blood."

"Meaning Black has at some point had contact with his daughter," Severus answered, speaking for the first time since greeting him politely. He had forgotten that about Severus, always the quiet one, willing to listen and observe before speaking or inputting. It made the man dangerous. More so than most suspect.

"Correct. Someone - Black more than likely, managed to conceal her mother's bloodline and also hide her from discovery for a majority of her life. However, he did not raise her. I have seen her memories; Black was not present in any of them."

"Which means Black is still alive?" Lucius stated.

"Perhaps. Black could have hidden his daughter before the war ended, but it was never confirmed one way or the other. Something I would like you to investigate Lucius," He commanded.

"I could just kill the bitch, and that would ensure Regulus and his own offspring become the heir or even my own son or nephew as Black blood runs through their veins."

"Bella," He warned. The one word caused her abruptly to look at him, the determination and passion burning in her eyes to carry out his will was evident to see. She was loyal. He could never question that, but she had her flaws, flaws that in war time made her a formidable weapon and creation, but now in peace time made her a liability. He didn't want her dead, but he needed to rein her in. It was why he was choosing to play this angle, choosing to go down this road.

There was no question it was dangerous.

No question it could go horribly wrong but if it succeeded _he_ would reap the benefits.

"You are a Black by blood. You know better than most that you are still bound by magic to the blood that runs through your veins. You still have to abide by certain rules of the family you were born to," He murmured.

He didn't need to raise his voice the room was silent.

"The Black Magic will hold you accountable for the death of one of your own regardless of whether she is worthy of such protection; you will be marked as Kinslayer. A curse in the bloodline if I am not mistaken to ensure siblings could not kill each other to gain the heritage. If Holly Black was deemed worthy to be the next Magical Heir of the Black Magic and you killed her, you would suffer severely. The result would weaken you considerably, and not even your marriage would protect you from it."

His voice was cold, unsympathetic and carrying the warning he wanted her to hear.

"It would make you weak, and I have no use for those who are weak."

Her eyes widened ever so slightly at the threat that his words were laced with. He would have no use for her. He watched in silent amusement as a battle danced across her eyes, and a burning hatred flared to life for Holly. A hatred he knew would cause her to do everything in her power to see the girl destroyed, to prove she was nothing more than a worthless half-blood.

Time to add a little salt to the open wound.

"Bella, jealousy does not become you," He smirked.

"I meant no disrespect My Lord, but I hate to think of you wasting your time with someone so beneath your notice. Who does not appreciate all that you are giving to them."

"Your concern is appreciated; however I would say being able to produce a fully active shield as accidental magic makes her interesting. She shows a great amount of potential of the witch she _could_ become. I would say if she does become the Black Magical Heir she would be worthy," He smiled, and openly let his face show his interest to all in the room.

He knew what he wanted Holly to become; what he _needed_ Holly to become. What plans he had for her. But for him to achieve his end game Holly needed to be moulded carefully. He had thought long and hard in how to achieve this until the idea had struck him.

She needed an adversary.

A dangerous adversary.

He knew it couldn't be himself, he wanted her, _no he needed her,_ he mentally corrected to trust him. To see him as the only person that really understood her as she travelled on her path learning magic.

The eagerness that she had shown couldn't be faked, she wanted to learn, and she wanted to learn everything. Eagerness Tom had once had when he had been her age.

It had left him one path to walk down.

One of his followers would need to be the adversary he required for the girl.

He knew his followers, knew that all of them craved to please him, and wanted for his attention. He knew how to play it and how to encourage the competitiveness between them to ensure they all put that little extra into following his orders and obtaining his goals. He knew when to give attention and praise and when to withhold it.

He had thought long and hard over whom would be best for the position.

Malfoy, he wouldn't see an eleven-year-old as a threat he would only be intrigued by the concept that she held _his_ attention. It wouldn't be until she was older that he would start to worry and that defeated the point.

Snape would be her Professor and would simply do everything in his power to crush her spirit, something he might do regardless considering who her father was.

Avery would only kill her from a distance.

Others to would follow suit, see her as nothing but an entertaining past time.

No, he wanted Holly to be razor sharp, cold and hard.

The deadliest weapon in his arsenal. A weapon that Grindelwald wouldn't see coming.

And for that to happen the adversary needed to be equally as formidable and equally as dangerous.

That had in truth only left him one option.

Bellatrix.

He had taken his time moulding her personally, fiercely loyal and also terribly jealous of those he gave his time and attention to that weren't her. She would already hate the girl on principle for being Black's daughter for daring to shame the family she had been born to. The risk that she could be the Heir would make her want to kill her. Add in his interest and praise for the girl and Holly's fate would be sealed in the witch's mind.

She would do everything in her power to destroy the girl.

To prove that she was unworthy, even go as far as killing her. The threat of retribution from the Black Magic only changing the way she did it.

Forcing her to be more creative.

She wouldn't directly attack, not to begin with at least. She would be devious, use pawns and other means to try and harm to the girl, to prove she wasn't worthy or even kill her. Nothing that could be traced back to her, it would only be when that didn't work she would try a direct attack.

Of course, there lay the one small problem in the plan, he didn't want Holly dead, he wanted her alive, and he would need to keep an eye on the girl to ensure she didn't die. But facing off Bellatrix would definitely help her become the witch he wanted and needed her to be.

Beautifully dangerous.

Deliciously dark.

And completely loyal to him.

After all, that was the saying; Strength through adversity. The strongest steel is forged in the fires of hell. It is pounded and struck repeatedly before it's plunged back into the molten fire. The fire gives it power and flexibility, and the blows give it strength. Those two things make the metal pliable and able to withstand every battle it's called upon to fight.

"Leave the girl alone," He said, and inwardly smiled. It wasn't direct order, and Bella knew it, which meant she would take it as an invitation to do what she thought necessary to protect him and the cause. And if along the way their battle helped Holly prove she was indeed worthy of being the Black Magical Heir then that would work for the best. All he would need to do would be to sit back and watch his plans unfold, train the girl and ensure Bella didn't go too far and the girl actually lived.

Speaking of plans, he still needed to out move Fudge; he would push for a press conference something he couldn't allow.

"Lucius tell Fudge that the girl will be attending Hogwarts in a week's time, and I feel as her magical guardian while she is in term time, that it would not be best for a conference to happen during her transitional period," He paused, smiling slightly.

"However you will start the preparations for an exclusive interview with Rita Skeeter to happen this week. It is time the world hears from Holly Black."

Fudge wouldn't see this coming, no one would.

 _You thought you could underhand me Fudge, but you forgot what you do unto me, I do unto you tenfold. You will create your own downfall, giving her to the public to love will make sure at the very least you cannot harm her._

A small smirk slid across his lips.

* * *

XXX

* * *

The girl sputtered as a jet of water hit her in the face.

Short, sharp gasps as she attempted to breathe.

She looked like a drowned rat, though Tom was confident she wouldn't appreciate the comparison.

She shot him a look of disgust, "What was that for?"

"You lost concentration. A deadly mistake. Call it a reminder that doing so could be fatal."

Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, but her eyes said she was anything but defeated. She would need that spirit to survive; he just needed to ensure it was directed to his way of thinking.

"You must remain on guard at all times. An opponent will strike when it benefits them to do so. Show weakness, lack of focus or concentration, and you are handing them the weapons they will need to see you fall."

"It's a school. You make it sound like I am going to be attacked at every second."

He could hear the amusement in her voice.

"It is not just a school Snow. It is the beginning of your journey. The first steps of the witch you will become. Your classmates, both younger and older will either be your allies in the years to come or your opponents. What you do now and how you act, will cement an image into their minds. An image that you may cause you harm when you are older. An image that may be impossible to displace," He warned.

She looked at him, a slight frown creasing her forehead.

"We are children."

"Children who belong to prominent Wizarding Families in Britain, and in turn the Empire. Yes they are children, yes they will behave as any eleven years old should, but they are the eyes and ears of their parents. A simple question of how your week has been and every family will have knowledge of the other families' offspring. How well they are doing? How talented?" he paused, letting his message sink in, "Over time the children will grow up, and the nature of your relationships will change."

"I have no family."

"You are not a fool Snow, so do not act like one. Whether or not they accept you, you are a Black. Your every action will be held into account regardless of your intention. Do not give them your head on a platter neatly wrapped."

She stayed silent, not letting anything show on her face. A talent that she would need during her years at Hogwarts. Maybe he was too harsh, but he knew better than most how vicious and cruel the children of those families could be. Proving his worth to them, that he was indeed someone they should follow despite having no family had been a gruelling task, and one he could have done without. They would be hard to her if they smelt weakness if they smelt fear. And while he didn't expect any of them to have mastered the art and dances of the game, he fully expected them to act like eleven-year-olds.

Children could be cruel when they wanted to be.

"Again Snow," He ordered. Watching her with careful scrutiny as she raised her wand in the correct movements while chanting the spell. He felt the soft tingle down the length of his spine that gave him an indication that magic was, in fact, being cast before the small metal ball rose in front of her.

The Levitation Charm.

A simple, efficient charm that with practice and precision could be used for many different things other than its original intent. The metal ball spun around as it hovered in the air before moving with force in the direction of the practice target. It struck true hitting the target in the general heart area.

He couldn't deny that she was getting better, but he wanted to ensure that she had a small knowledge of spells before she left for Hogwarts and each spell had to be perfect before he allowed her to move on.

It was a slow process and one she met with eagerness and determination he could admire. She struggled with explaining her thought process at times, or with following the exact steps laid out for her with each spell. But left to her own devices on what felt right to her then she exceeded.

It confirmed that she was indeed worth the time and attention he was giving to her. It confirmed that she was, in fact, someone that could be useful.

He did hate to waste his time on those who were undeserving, and if she were unable to use the power she had tucked away inside of her, she would be very undeserving. After all the willingness to use magic was not quite the same as the ability to wield it well. Many witches and wizards lacked the ability to truly use magic.

"An improvement. That will be all for today's session. I would like you to study the charm and look at six different ways the Levitation Charm could be used for. I want three offensives and three defensives."

She gave him a small nod to show she was at the very least listening, before turning to leave the room.

"Before you leave I would like to have a word," he waved his hand, silently vanishing the evidence of their lesson before turning to look at her. She watched him warily at the door.

"News of your parentage has been leaked to the press. The Minister Adjunct is aware now that you are the daughter of the Black Family."

"And what is the Minister Adjunct wanting to do about it?" she asked slowly.

He gave a slight smirk at her; it seemed she didn't miss a trick.

"Do you remember what you agreed to, the night of the attack?"

"I asked what I needed to do. I don't recall agreeing to anything," Holly answered heatedly.

"You agreed to help appease the muggles. To distract them from the ill-timed attack."

"They were your words, not mine," she replied stubbornly, her nose wrinkling ever so slightly. Tom was coming to recognise the few little tells that she unconsciously gave away. Once he knew her better than she knew herself he would work with her to conceal them until then he wasn't willing to give up the small advantage he had.

"Don't push me, Snow," he warned, "The Minister wants to call a press conference. Allowing you to speak publically for the first time in the hope of using you to diffuse the growing tension between Wizardkind and Muggles on the streets."

"No!" she cried.

He threw her a look, and instantly she shut her mouth and remained silent. He began to pace. He sometimes thought better while he was moving.

"I have declined. A press conference is not wise at this time, and we would not be able to control all the variables in such a situation. Instead, I have set into motion a compromise. An exclusive interview, with you and a journalist for the Daily Prophet."

"Please tell me you are joking?" Her eyes had widened in disbelief, and yet he could not mistake the anger that was burning in them.

"I do not joke. I told you at the very beginning what you would be needed for. I told you what the Emperor would do if he thought rebellion was stirring in our midst. At the moment the investigation has revealed nothing. Rumours are spreading that it is an act of war! Whoever is responsible is causing problems. Problems that you can at the very least ease."

"How by giving an interview?" she spat at him.

"By proving you are useful!" he hissed back, stepping closer to her, forcing her to step back as he unleashed his anger just a little.

He needed to break her stubbornness soon. He was close to her now, her face looking up at him as he towered over her. Inches apart.

Her eyes were swirling with magic, almost glowing.

Anger!

The pressure was building, pressing down against him. An invisible force trying to push him away.

"You. Will. Be. Giving. An. Interview," he repeated he could feel his own magic rising to his emotions and in response to the strange magic. Neither wanting to give the other an inch. The air seemed heavier, but he couldn't say who was more responsible her or him.

The only difference between them was he was older; more experienced and was recognising the signs.

The girls head creased in pain. She was going to suffer from a headache and not understand why.

 _Calm yourself. Do not curse her._

 _She needs to learn her place._

 _Do not curse her! You have been making progress. Punish her in another way but if you curse her now and the last few weeks would be for nothing._

He could feel his hand gripping tighter around his wand.

 _YOU ARE THE ADULT!_

He stilled himself. Letting his mind argue over the best cause of action.

Caution won.

He breathed and reined in his temper. Swallowing it whole.

With it he noted the pressure in the room lessened slightly. It became breathable again.

"You will participate in the interview. In it, you will reveal a little of your life, and you will use your experience as a _muggle_ to appeal to them. Ease their tensions; offer them something else to believe in. Something else to love and think for. I do not really care what exactly but a message will be given in that interview that will call for peace and not them believing that taking up arms for a futile hope of being liberated."

"Is it?"

"Is what!" he snapped

"Futile to believe in liberation?" she whispered.

"Dangerous thoughts to have and ones you cannot afford," he answered, "You read what happened to Warsaw and I can promise you Snow that was only the beginning of the horrors that occurred during the War. Imagine that on the streets of London. Imagine the death and pain and suffering that would follow such an act Snow. Imagine it and do everything in your power to avoid such a thing. None would be spared from the Emperor's wrath if the attack on the arena was the beginning of a rebellion and not a random act of madness. We want people to believe it was and is nothing more than that."

Their eyes met. Holly's still burning angrily into his and refusing to give an inch, and yet he knew she would. He knew she would do this interview. He wasn't giving her a choice.

"When?" she asked through clenched teeth. He noticed her hands had curled into fists, but she was keeping, it seemed, for now, a leash on her anger. He could feel the heat of her magic surrounding her, though.

 _She is showing control. That is good._

"Tomorrow afternoon."

"Fine!" she snapped.

"I expect you to do excellent Snow I expect you to sell it, and make not only them believe but Wizardkind as well."

She didn't respond. She spun on the balls of her feet and left the room. The pressure pushing against him eased ever so slightly but didn't disappear completely.

 _At least she didn't slam the door._

* * *

XXX

* * *

Silently Holly seethed, though she was careful not to show the woman sitting in front of her the discomfort and anger she was feeling.

 _I hate you, Riddle, I really do._

Mentally she cursed, a few chosen words she had often heard those older than her using.

 _Calm yourself. You just need to sell this interview, and you will be okay._

She gave a small smile as she studied the woman before her.

She was petite, dressed in a black and red dress suit, blonde hair pinned to her head in tidy, tight curls. Thin red lips that were pulled into a smile that she could only describe as smug, with green eyes, behind the red cat, eyed shaped glasses, that seemed to be studying her with the same scrutiny if not more so.

She could feel the weight of that gaze pressing down on her skin, and shifted ever so slightly.

The smile widened in amusement.

Mentally Holly cursed herself. She felt like she was about to be interrogated and that anything she said _would_ be used against her.

"Shall we begin Miss Black?" the woman asked, her smile widening even more as if she was enjoying making her squirm.

"Please Ms Skeeter, call me Holly, after all, we are about to share intimate details about my life I think you can call me by my first name," Holly smiled in return.

Rita laughed, "Of course Holly."

Holly nodded politely, Riddle's _warnings_ currently running through her mind.

 _Be helpful and friendly first; offer friendship; show your willingness. You can always be mean later. If you are mean first, Skeeter won't believe a word you say and will look for anything she can hold on you. So be nice and nice until it is time to stop being nice and then Snow, you may destroy her._

She couldn't help but snort at that when he had first told her to be nice. It wasn't something she had associated with him ever, but she was happy to play along for the time being. She would be nice and give Skeeter and Riddle what they both wanted because it suited her, and when she needed to she would stop being nice.

"Holly, until the anniversary of the Purge and the horrendous attack on the arena you were living amongst the _muggles_ , it has been quite an emotional whirlwind for you could you perhaps enlighten my readers and me just how you felt about the discovery of your true parentage and transition from the muggles to Wizardkind?" She couldn't hide the distaste from her voice about the muggles.

Holly breathed. Licked her lips nervously inwardly calming herself down, Skeeter wasn't Riddle, there was no point in getting into an argument over her dislike for Muggles, not yet at least.

"I was overwhelmed. I went from having no one, thinking I was an orphan to suddenly discovering I had living relatives. That I had magic, something I had never thought possible," she paused, choosing her words carefully, "The attack on the arena was a terrifying situation to be in. People died and have been severely injured. I don't think I have the right words to describe it really. I just know that going from thinking you are going to die and being relieved that you didn't to then suddenly discovering something about yourself is overwhelming. I am still having trouble keeping up with it if I am going, to be honest."

 _The easiest lie is one that holds the most truth,_ again Riddle's warnings echoed through her mind.

"What would you say was your strongest emotion?"

"Fear."

"Why?"

"I thought I had broken one of the sacred laws. A muggle using magic is an instant death sentence. I was afraid, discovering the truth didn't stop the fear. I knew I wasn't going to be sentenced to death, but I was still afraid, still afraid of the magic."

"Are you afraid of magic now?"

"No." _Only of the people that use it and what they can do with it._ She mentally added.

"You were raised with muggles, what was that like?"

"Difficult," She paused, choosing her words carefully, "I had no family; I was raised on one of the estates of a Wizarding family. I can't remember which one to be exact."

She gave a small sheepish smile to apologise for her poor memory before continuing, "I worked on the estate with other muggles until I was seven, six months after my seventh birthday I was sold to the Pit."

On cue Rita gasped, her eyes instantly darting to her left wrist, where on Riddle's instructions the brand was just visible. _Don't hide that you were there, use it to your advantage that you survived, Skeeter will only discover it later on and use it against you. Give little bits to hide the important things._

"How did you survive, no one survives the Pits?"

"Lord Riddle," She couldn't help but smirk at the use of his titles, "believes that my accidental magic was keeping me alive I just wasn't aware of it. I just remember waking up in London, in the Warren."

"You apparated!"

"I honestly couldn't say, it's not a time I often think about. Perhaps even blocked out," Holly answered with another small smile and a look she had perfected on the streets of the Warren. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, and her head tilted just so. A look she knew made her look vulnerable, weaker and by far more innocent than she actually was. It had helped her out of more situations than she had cared to count and given her the upper hand when she needed to look weaker than she actually was.

Rita blinked once, a genuine smile crossing her lips as she naturally reacted to Holly's expression, her eyes softened, and her tone of voice was gentle, concerning and caring.

"How long were you there for?"

"I think until I was nine, but you lose track in the Pit," Holly answered, allowing her features to slip into another mask that could help her. One that hinted at the horrors she had faced there. Not that she had to lie, the Pit had held horrors, horrors she wished she could forget and yet couldn't.

"Of course," Rita coughed softly, before asking another question, "How do you feel towards the Wizards that sold you?"

"Nothing; it was a long time ago."

"How do you feel towards the muggles?"

"I thought I was one. I was shown to a degree both kindness and cruelty by everyone, both muggle and Wizardkind. I can't hate them, or fear them. After all, I am who I am because of them. They will always hold a place in my heart."

"In light of the events of your discovery, what can you say on the matter of the attack on the arena?"

Holly took a deep breath. This was it, the question that meant everything and the whole reason Riddle had wanted her to give this little interview. The game he was playing.

 _Riddle's pawn, the Voice's pawn, hell even the Emperor's pawn._

Whatever she said need to help the growing tension. She wasn't sure she could find the right words exactly, but Riddle had warned that Skeeter would tell if she was reading from a script.

"My heart grieves for the lives of both Wizardkind and Muggles lost to us. It was a needless attack which resulted in tragedy."

"What are your opinions on those responsible?"

"I have none. I neither have the experience or the knowledge to comment. I understand that there is a full investigation and that they are doing everything they can to know what happened and if it was more than a mere act of madness to bring those responsible to justice," She answered calmly, though her heart was pounding in her chest.

She didn't agree with the attack, the needless death, but she wholeheartedly agreed with the idea of fighting for freedom. But then there lay the problem, fighting for freedom would result in death and lots of it. If the attack was indeed an act of rebellion, then regardless of her words she knew there would be many at least in London that would join.

Whether one could say blindly or not she couldn't say, or at least she didn't feel it was her place to say. She had always been about survival and her own personal freedom...escaping the Empire. Looking at the big picture had been unimportant, even now if she didn't have to pick her words carefully to ensure her comments didn't spark something she perhaps wouldn't be thinking of the big picture.

Maybe that made her little selfish.

"What can you say of the recent altercations that have happened between Wizards and Muggles on the streets of the Warren due to the attack on the arena and the continued rising tension between them?"

Rita's question brought her out of her own thoughts and back into the room.

"I can only appeal now, to the hearts of those who raised me, and to the souls of those whose blood sings magic like mine to end this bloodshed between us," She paused briefly hoping she was selling this as well as she needed to.

"Do not let those responsible for the loss of so many lives, both _Muggle_ and Wizardkind win."

"A question that puzzles us, Holly, why would muggles raise arms against Wizardkind?"

"Are you speaking hypothetically?"

"Of course, like you said the cause of the attack is unknown, and those responsible are equally a mystery, one I'm sure the Minister Adjunct is eager to solve," Rita smiled, "I am confident they are perusing it vigorously."

Holly could hear the subtle dig but couldn't fully wrap her mind around it.

"It is a difficult question to answer. I cannot know the minds of others, but why would most people choose to fight. To survive, to live, to defend. I survived the Pit because I fought. I struggled to live, and I fought for freedom, and while I can't fully remember how I escaped, I did eventually. There are a large number of muggles that are hungry, cold, sick and desperate. It I believe would be easy to persuade them to do things they would not otherwise think to do because they feel they have no other choice," She answered softly; the palms of her hands had grown clammy. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but she hadn't seen a way around answering the question.

"And what do you think should be done to hypothetically prevent muggles from taking up arms against Wizardkind?"

Mentally she cursed. She wasn't sure how she could answer this question, how she could even begin to address such an issue. The bigger picture was beyond the borders of Britain, the bigger picture was throughout the whole Empire. She didn't know the whole picture.

 _But you know the Warren. You know what they need._

 _Riddle will kill me. Slowly._

 _He told you to do what it takes to get the people to believe that taking up arms against the Wizardkind would be a mistake._

 _But is it?_

 _I know we aren't that stupid. They failed during the War, and they failed after. They would die. We all would die._

"Holly?"

"Sorry Ms Skeeter, I lost myself in my own thoughts then," She gave a small smile, apologising for her mishap, "To answer your question though I would propose offering medical aid to those who needed it within the Warren. Creating food banks, shelters. The Emperor has been kind and wise to create orphanages for those who lost parents in the war both Wizardkind and Muggle orphanages. Offering accommodation to others is the next step we as those chosen to wield magic can do to care for those who are unable to. For the Greater Good."

The words tasted like ash in her mouth. Never once had she voiced the Emperor's Mantra. She didn't _believe_ in it. It was quickly changed to suit the person saying it needs. To make them feel better or justified about the horrible deeds they committed.

"It is why Lord Riddle has deemed it as a situation that must be tackled. He is personally funding a project that will provide medical aid to muggles as well as a food bank. By addressing the issues that would lure those to support such horrendous attacks he hopes to lessen those who would raise arms," She added.

Riddle said to give the muggles something else to believe in, well she had definitely done that. He couldn't deny the claim. Not now.

 _Riddle is going to kill me._

 _The Underworld is going to kill me if I ever step foot into the Warren again._

"Such a generous act of kindness," Rita smiled, though it seemed she wasn't quite as convinced by the idea of being just that.

"Lord Riddle is a generous Wizard who has the safety and peace of the Empire as his primary concern as the Emperor's Heir," She answered with a smile, all the while thinking just how she could survive Riddle's anger.

* * *

XXX

* * *

All the windows in the Lestrange Manor shattered.

Bellatrix could feel her magic lash out, breaking everything in sight and still, it wasn't enough. If anything it only enraged her further.

 _How dare that half-blood-filthy bitch._

It was no doubt in her mind who she held responsible for her rage, a girl she had never meet and yet had been publicly chided for by her Lord for speaking out against her.

She never wanted to disrespect her Lord in such away, and yet he had defended the _girl._ She snarled at the thought.

For people to even suggest she was worthy of being named an heir, worthy or their Lords time and attention, it was unthinkable.

And now...now the girl...it didn't bare thinking about.

Her magic swirled around her lashing out.

The offending newspaper flared to life as flames engulfed it.

Something had to be done.

Such an insult could not go unpunished; the girl had to pay for wasting her Lord's time. For daring to try and impress him when she was nothing more than the scum on the floor.

"Mother?"

Bellatrix turned and meet her son's gaze staring up at her wide eyed.

She couldn't deny that she wasn't maternal. In fact, Rodolphus and Rabastan were solely responsible for her son's upbringing with the input of her sister. Children had always been a subject that held no interest to her other than it was her duty to produce an heir and yet she couldn't help but note as she looked into his dark brown eyes that there was something special there.

He was worthy of their Lord's time and attention, worthy of both the Lestrange and Black magic. But at only nine years old there would be some time before he could prove his worth to their Lord.

But it had given her an idea; she would ensure her son would be ready in time to prove his worth.

How fitting if those with Black blood running through their veins show they are indeed more worthy than the blood-traitors filth. And if the girl happened to die in a tragic accident there would be no trail to lead back to her.

"Don't worry my darling, mother is going to give you the stars, but first I must go and make some arrangements," She smiled, a plan already forming in her mind, before kissing him on his forehead.

"Mother will take care of it."

Slowly her rage retreated, and her magic fell silent, like a sleeping volcano waiting to erupt once again.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Not for the first time in the past two months, or even in the past week, Holly was ambivalent about the recent turn of events in her relatively mundane life so far.

Or as ordinary as a thief could get.

It had made her question herself, everything she knew about herself, everything she knew about anything.

In the space of weeks, she had gone from No-One to _Someone_.

And yet with the constant questions came an almost inescapable _itch_ that she desperately wanted to scratch and yet couldn't even reach.

An itch that had been there ever since her mind had taken a trip down memory lane against her will.

She wasn't sure she could trust her memories anymore. She wasn't sure she could trust anything she knew anymore. And that in itself was a scary thought, because if she was going to survive going to a magical school, she desperately needed to trust in herself, and yet she didn't feel like she could.

She threw a glare at the person who in her mind was responsible for her inner doubts and who was completely unaware of said such emotional turmoil as she stumbled onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters with a soft pop and churning stomach that was almost enough to distract her from her impossible thoughts.

She breathed through her mouth hoping that she wouldn't lose her breakfast and focused everything she had on easing her queasy stomach. Though if she was going to be bluntly honest with herself it was hard to say whether her turning stomach was down to apparition or the nerves that were slowly tightening into a ball as she glanced around.

The Platform was dead, no surprise really considering how early they were, but Riddle had insisted on taking her himself before he made his way to prepare for the start of the school term. She didn't put it past him to really be there to ensure she actually got onto the train and didn't make a bid for freedom.

Not that she would. She had come to a conclusion over the last few weeks running wasn't an option, or at least not right now.

There was too much _she_ didn't know, too much that could get her killed. Riddle's plan, whatever that was, was already underway. She had done the interview as he had requested, had been open and yet held back as he had suggested. She had even put forward a few of her own ideas to give back to the muggles a little. Ideas that Riddle had agreed with...eventually. He hadn't been pleased at first that she had pushed them forward so publically but eventually he had come around to the idea. Once he had calmed down.

The interview though had sealed her fate in another way, though; both Wizardkind's eyes and the Muggles would be on her now. She wouldn't find refuge or anonymity in the Warren now. A place she had once classed as home was forever lost to her.

And with little more than the clothes on her back, a trunk full of school supplies and a few Galleons and Sickles that Riddle had given her to last the school year should she need to purchase anything else she wouldn't last long on her own.

No the safest and best option for her, or really the only option, was to go to Hogwarts, to learn, and prepare and plan and when the time was right then, she would make her escape. Only when everything was right.

At least there she would have a little bit more freedom.

She sighed softly and looked around.

When Riddle had first given her the train ticket, she had been somewhat surprised by the method of transport to a magical school. No flying carpets, or horses or any other flying object just a single train. A train on a hidden platform that still remained hidden even now; it was evident to see that Wizardkind still liked their secrets and wouldn't invite the Muggles to see any more than they absolutely had to about themselves.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to the platform. A sign overhead Holly noted had _Hogwarts Express, 11 o'clock,_ in glistening gold ink. It was silent, peaceful. Something she had no doubt would change in a few hours.

Riddle directed her down the platform towards the end of the train before finally stopping at the last carriage. It would give her a perfect viewpoint allowing her to see the whole platform while remaining invisible to prying eyes.

With a flick of his wand, her trunk rose from the ground and moved onto the carriage and firmly into place.

"You are a daughter of the House of Black. Half-blood or not, that is going to mean something. Even if they never welcome you with opening arms, you are still a Black. Their blood runs through your veins, their magic," Riddle said suddenly, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. She turned to look at him his dark eyes watching her too closely.

"Your anonymity has gone. With your very public display of accidental magic and your family name, every eye in the Empire is going to be watching you. Some will want to see you fall; others will wait and see what you make of yourself, others will see you as their salvation, and others still will want to use you for their own purpose."

"You mean as you are?" she asked, she knew he was using her and she knew it was for much more than to appease the muggles, she just hadn't yet worked out for what.

He shot her a look but ignored her question.

 _No surprise there. Riddle only answers what he wants to answer._

"Whether you want it or not everyone will be paying attention. I have warned you about this before but perhaps not given you the reason for it. It is a game we wizard's play, a game you are either going to win or lose. Provide them with no weaknesses, provide them with no weapons and you should be all right. Prove to them you are worthy of their time and attention, but they are not worthy of yours. Prove to them you are not someone they want to trifle with."

"Why? Why go to all this effort?"

"Your life depends on it. The Voice of the Emperor will have you killed should he think for a second you are a threat, and to a small degree, you are little Snow, especially after your interview. You are an unknown factor, a Black who has been raised by muggles, who remained with those muggles for a long time. We have ways of tracking accidental magic and yet yours was never found," He paused, letting his words sink in.

He didn't need to, he had her attention completely. Everything was slowly beginning to make sense, the weeks of learning, not just about the Wizarding World in general but particular areas of the Wizarding World. The families, the politics, the laws, the culture, the laws. Riddle had never bothered with the insignificant things like flying broomsticks or talking mirrors because they hadn't been key to her survival and whatever angle _he_ was playing her.

The article about her in the newspaper hadn't been just about revealing a lost Black but to appease the fears that some seemed to have. Whether it had succeeded, she couldn't answer.

She had been learning because she had to, and in turn, because Holly wanted to know more so she could survive and escape. Riddle had been teaching her to survive a game she hadn't even realised she had been playing. A game it seemed everyone played whether they wanted to or not.

She wasn't sure she liked that one little bit.

"Wizardkind despise the unknown, and you are the unknown. Your mere existences has shifted the Game, and some players will be panicked by that but I warn you now Snow, it is not those who attack first you need to worry about, it is those who wait patiently to attack later that are the biggest danger. Always be alert to potential attacks and thwart them before they happen."

A lesson she had learnt both in the Warren, though granted one that frequently meant physical attacks and dangers rather than elaborate plots, and one he had been droning into her for weeks.

She wasn't sure she would be able to survive this game. This game she didn't know she was playing or know any of the rules for.

 _Breath. Don't panic, do what you have always done. Adapt and survive._

 _Learn._

Perhaps she could survive; it would just mean adapting her own plans, changing her own goals. Freedom would come, but first, she would need to learn to play this game, so she could learn what she needed to gain that freedom.

 _Whatever it takes._

"Study hard Miss Black, and do not disappoint me," He finally said. The use of her family name made her turn to him. He hadn't used it once since they had discovered it, and she guessed that the use of it now signalled something. Marked a shift, a change in circumstances. At Hogwarts, he would be the Headmaster, the teacher, not the mentor who had plucked her from the muggle world and taught her, her first spell. Not the man who called her Snow, or had shared wands or spoke in Parseltongue.

She wouldn't go as far to say she knew him, but in the eight weeks she had been living in the Manor there had been a sense of ease and awareness of him...of each other. She had always been aware of his presences like a sort of sixth sense. While she wouldn't say she was completely comfortable with him and Holly still had a level of distrust and wariness to him, she had seen him in a different light to any other student. But now she wouldn't be Snow and he wouldn't be Riddle. She would be Miss Black, and he would be Sir or Professor. Something he was making visible now.

She wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.

Or even how she felt about it.

Instead, she chooses not to answer and politely nodded her head before stepping onto the carriage. They didn't say goodbye, pointless as they would be seeing each other again in a few hours, he didn't say anything else, just gave her one final look before disappearing before her very eyes.

And for the first time in eight weeks she was alone.

Really alone.

It felt strange after so long of being in someone's company or being aware that someone else was in fact there.

It made her mind drift back to the Warren, when despite being by herself she had never been alone, she had always had the dog, a dog she missed and hadn't actually realised. A dog she wondered where and what he was doing right now.

Shaking her head of her thoughts she picked a book out from her trunk, tucked her feet underneath her before leaning back into the carriage and willed herself to lose her thoughts in a book.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Holly couldn't say exactly when the platform started to fill with people, but she could safely say the closer it got to eleven o'clock the more crowded it became.

She could see the smoke drifting over the heads. Her fellow schoolmates hanging out of windows saying goodbye to their families as cats of every colour wound their way between legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and scraping of heavy trunks.

She had long since given up reading her book 'Magical Drafts and Potions' and had taken to watching the crowds.

She witnessed a herd of red heads that could only be related gather together before splitting off into various directions, only one remaining by her mother's side. Children in neatly dressed clothes that screamed expensive to her well-trained eyes saying goodbye in a formal way rather than an open display. A round-faced boy talking to his parents and grandparent, or at least Holly was presuming was a grandparent, quietly. She could see the smile on the mother's face and the beaming proud grin on the father's.

This was it; these children would be who she would spend the next seven years with.

Regardless of their year she would soon be living amongst them and be counted as one of them. She knew from living in the Warren there would be some sense of comradeship between them all whether they became friends or not, a code that would pass between all of them as they lived and studied in the school.

It was an unnerving thought.

As a first year, she would be the bottom of the food chain, she would need to prove her worth to them. And while a small part of her wished she could remain a lone figure in the shadows she knew that wouldn't be allowed. She would at the very least need to prove she wasn't someone who could be pushed around. Being top of the food chain held no interest to her, a pecking order that was a natural occurrence both in animals and people when a large group was living together. There was always a top dog and a bottom dog. Where she landed would depend on every action from here on out.

An unspoken rule.

Survival of the fittest always applied, the concept or definition changed depending on the circumstance, but it always remained at the heart of human interaction. The Warren was a prime example of that.

As she studied those children, who would soon become a large part of her life she couldn't help but feel out of her depth. She had avoided it in the Warren by taking herself away from the games of dominance. By proving, she could survive on her own when the odds were against her. She _knew_ she wouldn't have that option available to her in Hogwarts, a prospect that made her more nervous than anything. Learning magic appealed to her curiosity and desire to learn, the castle itself an unknown that she wanted to explore. Interacting with people every day wasn't something she was good at, but if she was going to survive this as Riddle had suggested she was going to need every advantage she could get.

Starting by observing her fellow school mates.

The compartment door slid open, catching her off guard for a second. Holly turned to face it at once, ensuring her expression was calm and somewhat welcoming.

 _Know who you're dealing with - do not offend the wrong person._

The boy in the open door stood blinking for a moment as if he had not expected anyone to be sitting in the compartment.

"Are you saving these seats for anyone?" he asked nervously.

He had an open, cheerful face if not somewhat shy, with lank brown hair that fell across his forehead and open brown eyes that were more expressive than he perhaps realised and yet they held no malice.

He was expecting her to say yes, he was waiting to be turned away. She could tell from the way he hesitated in the doorway, shifting ever so slightly on his feet. She had only taken a few seconds to observe him, but to _him,_ it had probably felt like a lifetime.

"No," she smiled, "You are welcome to sit if you want to."

 _Be nice first, you can always be mean later._

He hesitated for a moment as if surprised by her response before taking a step forward into the compartment, "Thank you," He nodded at her.

He shut the door behind him and took the seat across from her, "I'm Neville Longbottom," He smiled shyly.

Riddle had told her it was customary to give your last name when meeting someone. She didn't feel quite ready to use the name that was hers and yet didn't feel like hers and yet if she didn't she could offend him. Not giving her last name was normally a sign she considered him less than her.

Inwardly she sighed; already her mind was running through hoops just to keep track of everything Riddle had started teaching, everything she had learnt. The correct customs, the etiquette that governed people's lives so not to offend or cause feuds or anything else. Her mind was spinning; she _knew_ that sooner or later she was going to screw up whether accidentally or not.

Outwardly she smiled, keeping her face free from the turmoil that was stirring inside of her. This was it, her first person to meet outside of Riddle if she couldn't handle it and keep control over herself than she wouldn't survive Hogwarts.

 _Survive. It is all about survival._

"Holly Black," She greeted, and waited for the reaction. He was either going to be aware of who she was and the newspaper clipping and her very public outing or he wasn't.

His eyes widened ever so slightly.

"Sirius Black's daughter!"

She winced he clearly knew who she was.

"It would seem so," She answered softly.

"Sorry," He said sheepishly, "That was impolite of me."

"I doubt you will be the last person to react that way. My name and my outing not to mention my circumstances are bound to cause a few eyebrow raisings."

"You were raised by the muggles."

She didn't hear the same disgust in his voice that had always been in Riddle's whenever he had uttered the word. She didn't see it on his face either, just general curiosity. Perhaps he didn't hate them in quite the same way, she thought back to what Riddle had said about the Longbottom family, that they had been opposing the Empire to the very end, and yet they too it seemed soon submitted to its might.

Sympathise they might but as far as she could see they had still remained silent over the treatment of the muggles.

 _It's not his fault._

"Um yes," She answered, not entirely sure what she was supposed to say on the subject. As a rule most witches and wizards didn't mention muggles.

An uncomfortable silence had fallen between them, both of them aware that having grown up as a muggle her upbringing would have been anything but pleasant or at least to Wizardkind's eyes anyway. And yet Holly couldn't focus her mind on anything to ease the awkwardness.

 _I'm definitely not good at this conversation thing._

 _You could talk to Will._

 _We were both thieves trying to survive; I can't very well talk about committing a crime with anyone else._

She argued back and forth with herself and was more than grateful when Neville broke the silence between them.

"Is that _Magical Drafts and Potions?_ I have read the introduction to it, but it looks quite complicated," He stated with a small smile. "Some of the potions I read seemed to require animal parts; I couldn't imagine doing something like that. And some need bits from people."

"I don't think we would be allowed to do those in the first year, it would be I think a disaster waiting to happen, and I'm sure they are not that cruel to have us harvesting animal parts."

"You've not heard about Professor Snape then, I've heard lots of things about him, none of them are good."

"Like what?" she asked, curious to hear about any of the other Professors. Riddle had been incredibly tight lipped about them in general though she had heard one or two mutterings about individual Professors while staying with him.

"That he is a vampire and likes to do cruel things to students. I think he would be evil enough to do that," He paused, "I don't think I'm going to do very well in Potions."

"I'm sure you will, though I believe that it will take a little work to actually make the potions in practice, for all of us," She answered with a smile she hoped was reassuring, though it sounded that the Professor would be equally challenging. Unless someone was being cruel to Neville and pulling his leg. "Are you looking forward to Hogwarts?"

"I am, though I am worried about the sorting and the classes." Neville swung his feet a bit nervously, before blurting out "Which House do you think you'll be sorted into?"

"I don't know. I don't think any of them fit me really, so I guess I will be surprised with whichever house I get sorted into," She paused; she hadn't given the school houses much thought other than to look at what each house actually represented. "Which House are you hoping for?"

"Gryffindor. Both my parents were in that House," He answered.

"Well, I wish you luck on reaching Gryffindor," She smiled.

"Thank you," His own smile flickered across his lips.

A comfortable silence fell between them as they both turned to their chosen books, only to be broken when questions were raised in regards to certain herbs or plants that were mentioned within _Magical Drafts and Potions_ or potions that were referenced next to certain herbs and their uses. In their silence and the comfort of their knowledge, as it soon became apparent Neville's passion lay in Herbology more than any other area, a bond was being planted and slowly growing. She wouldn't call him a friend, but there was an ease between them that she hadn't been expecting. Neville was certainly friendly if not somewhat shy, and she supposed posed no danger to her. What he thought of her she couldn't say, but as they lost themselves into their discussion neither of them had really noticed the Platform slipping away from sight and their journey to Hogwarts had indeed begun.


	9. Chapter 9

**A.N:** Thank you for all the reviews, favourites and follows. I know it has been over a year since I last updated and I can only apologise. All previous chapters have now been re-edited, and few changes have been made. While the story and the plot remain the same there have been a few changes in the earlier chapters.

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Thank you for remaining patient with me and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

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Chapter 8 - **A Sorting Tale**

The lights of Hogsmeade Station glistened in the distance like fireflies hovering in the night sky moving ever closer; Slowly the train began to slow down until it finally pulled to a stop.

Holly pushed her book back into her trunk before following Neville out from their compartment and into the corridors of the train and a sea of people. Looking around she could see the nervous faces of other children that she could only presume were fellow first years as they waited by the doors, and hoped that she didn't appear to be as nervous as them.

In every direction she looked, as she stepped onto the platform, there were dark-robed children, pushing and shoving past each other as they scurried in all directions. She lost Neville and the only familiar face the moment her feet touched the ground.

The only beacon in the mass of people was a tall skinny man holding a lantern calling out for the first years. She moved towards him leaving behind the older years and joining her fellow first years as the man led them further into the darkness and down a narrow path.

Whether to keep warm or simply to comfort their own nerves the first years huddled closer together than necessary as they walked. Eventually, they came to a stop at a small dock where an array of boats bobbed in the water.

She felt the first twinge of pure panic, her heart beat quickening ever so slightly, at the idea of getting into the boat and crossing the water. She didn't like the idea of the boats one bit but not wanting to be signalled out for dawdling, quickly joined an auburn haired girl and two boys in a boat. Despite the nervousness that seemed to emanate from everyone around her there also underneath was a layer of excitement.

A hum that she felt more than heard.

Silently they lurched forward, and the boats directed without any steering, glided across the lake, which was smooth as glass.

Moving ever closer to the towering castle perched atop a high mountain, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, warm and inviting.

Hogwarts was certainly an impressive sight.

Listening to the murmur of awe all around her Holly could say she wasn't the only one that thought so either. She took the time to study the castle in front of her, using more than just her eyes. Slipping into a part of her that Riddle had awoken in the cave to sense and see magic; something he had insisted she practice every day since.

The magic in the cave Riddle had taken her too had been impressive, but it paled in comparison. Hogwarts glowed, though her mind argued, that glow really wasn't the right word, Hogwarts radiated with magic; brightly coloured hues of oranges, and reds and yellows. Woven together tight and thick like a spider's web but unlike any she had seen before. And mixed into the colourful web which gave the illusion that Hogwarts was a small sun was yet more colours. Greens, and blues, and purples all woven together on top of each, entwined in such a way that unravelling them would be next to impossible. Some were pulsing far brighter than others as if they were active and alive while others were dim and dormant.

Holly couldn't say what they meant or represented. What spells lay so thick on the castle borders but she could say it was beautiful.

"If you continue to gape like a fish, people will start to think you are an uneducated commoner before you even enter its halls," the girl she was sharing the boat with, stated. Holly couldn't hear any malice in her tone, couldn't hear the underline, _I think you are a commoner,_ but she could hear the warning. A sign that she was behaving unseemly and doing so will hurt her. Unless she was a commoner, then it mattered very little.

Holly wasn't sure how she was able to read all that was being unsaid but she knew with a certainty that the girl had been trying to portray exactly that message. Even if it was with a somewhat bored and disinterested tone.

"I am simply admiring the view, can you not see it," she answered, ensuring to keep her voice even and polite, uncertain whether she should show she had understood or not.

"Hogwarts, yes I'm not blind," she answered lazily. As if she actually was only responding because it passed the time, not because she had any real interest in the conversation or even, in fact, the person she was speaking to. "Not very bright are you. I suppose your family are incredibly pleased that with you were accepted into Hogwarts, what with your intelligence."

Holly swallowed her snort at the obvious sarcasm lacing the words. Again though she couldn't help but feel there was no genuine malice to the girl's words.

"I have no family," Holly replied automatically.

"Oh, you're one of those, are you?" she responded. It wasn't said catty, just matter of fact, void of emotion. Holly wasn't sure if the girl was aiming to offend or not. Not that she was offended, she was more than used to people dismissing her at a glance, and if Holly was honest, she preferred it that way. And yet _something_ niggled at the back of her mind that she couldn't let the conversation end there. Family meant power and protection. Claiming you had none said you stood alone. Holly wasn't sure whether it was due to Riddle's warning speech or her own ingrained instinct that _she_ knew that, but she did, just as she knew what was needed next.

"I actually meant the magic surrounding Hogwarts. Can't you see it? How disappointing?" she said matching the girl's tone with her own.

The girl turned to face her once again. Her blue eyes studying her carefully though she didn't say anything. Holly could just see, as the light on the boat bobbed, a small smile on her lips. As if she was amused by something. Before she turned her back on her and looked towards the castle.

Holly couldn't say she had achieved what she had wanted, but in a world where family meant power claiming you had none indicated weakness. Saying she _could_ see the magic wasn't a great declaration but it gave her something extra. Though boasting too much about what you were capable of could be equally as damaging.

 _I can do this, I just need to keep my head down and make sure I know how to defend myself for when the time comes._

They ducked under a curtain of ivy as the boats carried them through an opening in the cliff face. They continued along a dark tunnel which seemed to be taking them right under the castle until they reached an underground harbour, where they clambered out on to the rocks and pebbles.

The auburn haired girl passed her and whispered softly, "You are interesting, try not to be a disappointment with your sorting, it would be a waste. And remember not to gape like a fish."

Holly didn't have time to respond as the girl simply let the crowds push her ahead. They clambered up a passageway in the rock after their quiet leader, who Holly presumed was a Groundskeeper of some sort, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

Where they led up a flight of stone steps and were greeted by two large oak doors. The man knocked twice before they opened with a groan and wood creaked. Standing in the open door was a tall witch with black hair and dressed in emerald green robes. Her gaze seemed to pierce them where they stood, and Holly doubted that very little got past her.

She nodded politely to the man who had guided them from the platform to the castle before turning her attention back to them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she began, "I am Professor McGonagall. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is an important ceremony because, while you are here, your houses will be like your family at Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room."

"We have four Houses here at Hogwarts; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, each claiming its own decorated history and distinguished witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

With a final nod at the all of them and a quick chance to smarten up, she led them through another set of double doors and into the Great Hall.

Holly had never imagined such a place existed.

Thousands of candles floated in midair over four long tables which were already full of students studying them intently. She could see that each table represented a house, by the different coloured ties worn by each student.

A careful glance around showed the ceiling above the floating candles seemed never ending as it revealed the starry night sky. A smaller table was raised slightly higher on a dais at the front of the hall. Her eyes found the familiar face of Riddle who seemed to be watching closely to every movement as Professor McGonagall led them closer.

Her own nerves returned the closer she got to the front, she had been aware that the Wizarding World was far larger than she had seen, but seeing the sheer number of students that seemed to be sitting in this hall was an eye-opener. She hadn't imagined that there would be this many students.

Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first-years. On top of the stool, she put a pointed wizard's hat. Holly noted it was patched and frayed and filthy.

Riddle had been closed mouthed about the way she would be sorted, but she very much doubted it would involve magically producing something out of a hat.

The hat twitched.

The hall fell silent.

A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat began to sing.

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XXX

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Guilt was a powerful emotion.

It crept up on you when you weren't looking. Sinking into your bones so it could gnaw away at you like a dog whenever it felt the need.

Minerva couldn't deny that she had a lot to feel guilty about, but as she nervously looked upon the newest students as the Sorting Hat sang its song she couldn't help but feel that her guilt was a price worth paying.

Especially if it meant that she still maintained a position to be of some use. Showing submission at the end of the war may have grated on every natural instinct she had in her, but it had ensured she had maintained her position within Hogwarts. Tom Riddle had let her remain on as Gryffindors' Head of House and _as_ the Deputy Headmistress, without persecution for her part in the war, but she knew that was more a political manoeuvring than any kindness to her. She was familiar, trusted by staff, parents and students. Her no-nonsense demeanour led most to respect her. Not to mention she knew the ins and outs of the school better than most, something the _'Heir to the Throne'_ took full advantage of. While he ran the school with an iron fist and ensured his reign was supreme he did leave all the minor day to day running to her. It left a bitter taste in her mouth dealing with him more than she had to, the bite of his betrayal to them all still stung even now, but it was a suffering she bore equally with her guilt.

She was the grease in the wheels for the new regime.

And that was how it all made her feel.

Greasy.

But as she stared at the nervous faces before her as the new students waited to be sorted she knew with all her heart it was worth it. If she could protect the children, who had no one left to protect them, to fight for them, who didn't in part really know who they were.

The Muggle-borns, their very presence betraying both the best and the worst of the Empire's efforts. Forever separated from their birth families, forever denied the knowledge of who they really were and where they came from and yet afforded the opportunity to prosper and counted among the greatest witches and wizards of the day. If it meant they were able to live though she supposed it was a necessary evil, though she couldn't help but wonder how long the ends would justify such means.

 _And isn't that a deception I have to feel most guilty about, a betrayal to my own family._

She steeled her nerves as the Sorting Hat concluded its song and stepped forward, leaving all doubt behind.

She could live with being a little greasy if it meant protecting the children and the rest of the staff.

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XXX

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The Hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four houses and then became quite still again. She heard one of her fellow first years whisper loudly, "So we've just got to try on the hat!"

Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will step forward, put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said, "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of the line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes and sat down. A moment's pause -

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat shouted.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.

"Aldermaston Dennis!"

A pudgy with a pug nose approached the Sorting Hat and tentatively lifted it onto his head.

The entire room was quiet, only a few coughs and shuffling chairs marring the silence. Holly shifted from foot to foot.

After a minute which felt far longer, the hat shouted out, "RAVENCLAW!"

The room burst into applause, particularly from the blue and bronze coloured house.

"Apollonius Angitia!"

A dark-haired girl with equally dark eyes stepped forward. A bracelet glistened in the candlelight as she placed the hat onto her hair, _silver_ , Holly mentally added as it caught her attention. Not that she had any intention of stealing the girl's bracelet, or anything else for that matter, but she couldn't un-train herself to not notice expensive jewellery.

It paused for a few moments on her head before shouting out, "SLYTHERIN!"

The table to her left applauded as the girl walked to join them.

"Black, Holly!"

Holly smoothed her face into an expression of indifference and stepped forward toward the stool Apollonius had just vacated. All around her whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

 _"Black,_ did she say Black? The girl who was raised with _Muggles?"_

" _Sirius Black's_ daughter?"

As she put the hat on the last thing, she could see were the eyes of students craning to look at her.

It was a curious sensation. The voices of the Hall dropped away to a buzz, and a small voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere spoke in her ear.

 _"Pay them no mind, young lady. Fusspots the lot of them."_

Holly was grateful she didn't jump as the voice echoed inside her skull, instead she kept the blank mask on her face while thinking at the hat, _are you supposed to call them fuss pots?_

 _"No, I don't suppose I am, but it's not like you will tell now is it. A lot has changed since I was first created; I daresay I miss the old days. Young minds weren't quite so busy."_

 _And they are busy now?_

 _"Very. And not all of it good, I might add. Now my dear, let's get a good look at you..."_

Holly had the odd, uncomfortable sensation of the room spinning around her and turning sharp-edged, as though the Hat had put her vision into another part of her brain while it looked at her memories. It wasn't as painful as her experience with Riddle, but it was certainly disconcerting.

 _"Well, that complicates things."_

And that was all.

Holly frowned underneath the brim of the hat, satisfied for the moment that nobody else was able to see her expression. _Hello? What complicates things?_

 _"Be quiet Miss Black,"_ the small voice replied, " _I am thinking."_

Holly stopped thinking, feeling foolish that she was being chided by a hat. The hat lapsed into silence and with it so had the hall.

 _Great just great. Maybe I really don't belong here after all._

 _"Don't be absurd, Miss Black, you have talent I can clearly see that, it is what I cannot see that is the problem."_

 _What do you mean what you cannot see?_

 _"Your mind is not...fully there. I can see the surface, I can see your life as a muggle, your activities as a thief, and I can see the horrors of the Pit, but there are blanks, gaps, and missing pieces. Your memories literally aren't all there. I know that you have been aware that something isn't fully right since the Headmaster poked and prodded."_

 _Do you know why?_ She silently asked.

 _"I can only hazard a guess, for I am only a hat."_

 _And what is your guess?_

 _"A curse Miss Black, a powerful curse."_

 _I haven't been around anyone magical._

 _"That you are aware of."_

Silently Holly mused, her mind replaying various things, the familiarity she had felt with magic despite never using it before. Which brought with it far more questions than it did answers.

 _Can you sort me or not?_

 _"You don't seem overly worried that I might not be able to?"_

She didn't answer, or at least not directly. She had a feeling the Hat was able to read every thought regardless of whether it was directed at him. She hadn't given the Houses much thought, hadn't considered where she would go. Riddle had discussed them, had mentioned he had been in the Slytherin House, but as to where she wanted to go, she felt it personally didn't matter. She wanted to learn magic, to study and to plan, and eventually, she wanted to be free, she could do that in any of the houses.

 _"The path to freedom is a dangerous road, one which will be long and hard and you will face many trials. But I can see that you are resolved in this desire, which shows you have the courage to obtain your goals,_ _but there is far more than courage that holds you together. It is your cunning, your care, and your implacable determination to succeed that is your heart,"_ the hat paused, _"my dear girl there is far more to you than meets the eye, more than even yourself realise. Good luck in..."_

"SLYTHERIN!"

Holly stood calmly, removing the hat and placing it back onto the stool before making her way towards the clapping table. She mentally noted it wasn't quite as enthusiastic as the Hufflepuff table had been but they _were_ still acknowledging her presences. She noted the curious glances, some thick with suspicion and others with a little more heat than perhaps would be considered friendly.

She listed everything she knew about the house as she took her place at the end of the Slytherin table. Nodding politely to the only other first year already seated in the allocated area before turning her attention back onto the Sorting.

Slytherin was the house of the cunning, ambitious, creative and resourceful traits that she couldn't deny she was her. However, she could also clearly see obstacle of belonging to such a house. She wasn't the only one with such cunning or ambition, and Holly couldn't help but wonder how much more difficult her task would become.

She was quickly joined by "Bulstrode, Millicent" and "Crabbe, Vincent".

A lull followed once Tracey Davies took her place at the Slytherin table. Until the auburn haired girl, she had shared a boat with stepped forward gracefully. In the light of the Great Hall, Holly was able to see her more clearly. Despite her petite build, she appeared far taller than she truly was simply by the way she held herself. She wore a confident expression as she placed the hat on her head and waited patiently under the heavy gazes of the other students. The hat didn't take as long as it had with herself, Holly noted, but it took longer than the mere seconds that it had taken with some of the students before it eventually shouted "Slytherin".

Daphne Greengrass took the empty seat to her left, tucking her robes neatly under her as she sat down.

"I am pleased to see you were able to prove you were more than a commoner," she greeted quietly, content with ignoring the sorting for the time being.

"Damn I guess I am housebroken after all," Holly replied softly.

The girl's lips cracked ever so slightly, "I had a feeling you would be Slytherin material, and I am glad you have proven me right. I do so hate to be disappointed."

"That must be difficult, what with life being a general disappointment."

"Only for those who aim too high, too quickly,"

"I would say you aren't going to be one of those who aims too high too fast.

Daphne Greengrass laughed quietly, "I knew you were going to be interesting _Miss Black,_ but how perceptive. _"_

Holly heard the emphases of her name. She supposed her denying her family was inconceivable to those who prided themselves on their family name but she couldn't find it in herself to think of the Black family as real family. Instead, she opted to ignore the emphases with humour.

"Aw shucks, you're going to make me blush," she answered with a roll of her eyes.

Their attention however was soon drawn to the sorting as "Malfoy Draco", was declared a Slytherin. Holly watched him approach the table as she clapped alongside the rest of her housemates. He was sharp-looking with platinum blonde hair and a smug expression he strode towards the table. Though Holly was half tempted to say swagger rather than strode. His eyes met hers briefly, and they exchanged a polite nod before he took his place in between Crabbe and Goyle, though Holly wasn't sure she had been paying enough attention to tell the two apart.

"He is a distant cousin of yours I believe, through his mother," Greengrass whispered to her.

"It would seem you know a lot about the Black family."

"It pays to pay attention, and the Black family are well known. _You_ are the only unknown factor in their equation."

"Something I am sure you are eager to correct?" Holly asked, ensuring the amusement was evident to see on her face as she clapped along to welcome Theodore Nott to the Slytherin table.

Greengrass smiled slightly, "You are a clever one aren't you?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny."

"Call me Daphne," she said after a considering pause, "I do believe we are going to be great friends Black."

"Please call me Holly, I have been told it is custom amongst friends."

Daphne laughed softly, "It would appear my father was right, _you_ have inherited your father's charm. From what they have said, he was even more charming than the Blacks tend to be."

"Your father knew Sirius Black?" Her curiosity prickling at the mention of the man whose blood claimed to be her dad. Riddle had barely mentioned him, only a passing comment here or there that he had been on the opposing side to the Emperor and in turn the Empire. Not only had she been raised by muggles but she was a traitor's daughter.

She wasn't really sure how she was supposed to feel about that particular piece of information. But then she doubted very much _her_ opinion really mattered. It would affect how others would see her which could cause its own set of problems.

Whatever reply Daphne might have made was forgotten as 'Zabini Blaise' was sorted into Slytherin and, Professor McGonagall took the hat and stool away.

Silence fell across the hall as Riddle rose from his seat.

"Nobody gives you power. That's what you need to know when you enter Hogwarts School. Nothing is for free," his voice carried through the hall as he scanned each table,

"Once you realise what it takes to achieve perfection, to achieve your goals, and to claim your power, you will succeed."

He paused for a moment allowing his words to sink in. And sink in it did, almost as if the very words ingrained into their skin. Holly couldn't help but be captivated, and she knew from those she could see that the every student was equally fascinated.

"Hogwarts will give you the tools and knowledge you need, the rest is up to you. But you must remember that the weak will not survive here and to survive you must win at all costs."

He clapped his hands once before returning to his seat. Almost immediately, the golden plates in front of them were piled with abundant amounts of food; a generous selection of watering meats, vegetables, side dishes and several delicacies that Holly was having trouble identifying with.

While she had grown accustomed food on a regular basis, she still had never seen a large amount at one time that was currently placed on the banquet table.

Holly unfolded her napkin before placing it on her lap, slowly observing those around her. Nott and Zabini were in quiet conversation with each other, towards the end of the table. From looking at their faces, it didn't appear to be a light-hearted conversation either. Opposite her Crabbe and Goyle were stuffing themselves with everything within their reach, not bothering with plates. From the look on Malfoy's face, it was perhaps a usual occurrence and one he didn't appreciate.

"Pumpkin Juice?" Daphne asked.

"Yes please," Holly responded taking the jug from the girl's hand and poured herself a glass before passing it onwards.

"Heavy speech," Daphne said, as she helped herself to a helping of mash potatoes.

"I think it was meant to be motivational."

"Oh, it was certainly that," Daphne hummed in agreement as she passed a dish of vegetables to her, "the competition to even be accepted into Hogwarts is incredibly fierce. All families want their children to come here, even those on the mainland. If they can't get them into the Arcadia Academy in the Imperial City, then Hogwarts is the next best thing for them."

"Because the Heir is the Headmaster."

"That's one of the reasons, I'm sure. But everyone knows Hogwarts offers an elite teaching program that not only ensures all its students have a thorough understanding of magic but also provides its students are well-trained and exceptionally good at duelling. Not to mention that our graduates are always offered the first pick of many apprenticeships," Daphne answered.

"Not to mention of course every family hopes each year the Headmaster will choose a student to be his apprentice, of course, it hasn't happened yet, though it was said five years ago one student at least studied closely with the Headmaster."

She finished her dinner quietly, aware of the considering gazes that were sent her way. They weren't very subtle, but nor did they voice a single question. But then she supposed the Slytherin way was observation first and foremost, gather information before you strike.

After about the third distinct glance Holly noticed Daphne noticing it too. Daphne didn't look surprised, more amused, though she couldn't help but think there was a calculating light in her eyes as she noted exactly who was observing.

She wasn't sure she could trust the girl so quickly or easily, but then she would be foolish to do so. She couldn't help but wonder though what exactly Daphne was gaining by offering friendship so quickly, but then she supposed Riddle had put her on edge, and she was looking for things that weren't there.

 _Trust yourself._

And wasn't that now the problem, after the Sorting Hat's words she wasn't certain she could trust herself anymore, let alone anyone in this world. She was an outsider, alone in a world, she didn't fully understand. She may have magic running through her veins, but there was still far more that she didn't know than she did.

Knowledge was power after all. And in that accept she was at a disadvantage. She may have the valued family name, but she didn't have any of the training that came with such a thing, and nor did she truly have the protection that such a name provided. Not when they hadn't openly acknowledged her. Something she was certain would be used against her sooner rather than later.

Which she supposed was what made Daphne's claim to friendship so peculiar. Or at least in her opinion. The only thing she could do was wait and see how accurate that claim was. Friends didn't mean much in the Warren, it didn't mean they wouldn't betray you; at least it hadn't done in the Warren. She wasn't foolish enough to believe in it blindly.

 _Beware the smile, for it is a double-edged sword._

It was late when the last plates vanished from sight, but as soon as they had, they were dismissed with a few short words about orientation the following morning after breakfast.

Almost as if they had rehearsed it the Slytherin Prefects gathered the first years up with strict instructions to stay close and follow them. Holly fell into step with Daphne as they made their way out of the Great Hall and across the Entrance Hall before descending down a set of stairs, which she could only guess led to the dungeons of the castle. She had lost track of the number of turns, both lefts and the rights, and another set of stairs before they were finally brought to a stop in front of a plain stone wall.

A blonde haired prefect stepped forward to address them; she had deep set eyes with heavy eye make-up.

"Welcome first year Slytherins, my name is Blaire Selwyn, and I am a sixth-year prefect. As you can see our common room is hidden within the dungeons of the school. We don't expect you to be able to find it on your own for a few weeks because it just looks like an empty stretch of wall, so just follow an older Slytherin until you are more familiar with your way around."

"Don't be too proud to ask for help either," Another prefect added, "We have all had to do the same thing when we were first-years. Slytherin prides itself on looking after its own, you won't be expected to figure everything out on your own like a Ravenclaw, you are first years and there is a lot you need to learn. On the other hand, we're not Hufflepuffs. If you want help, you have to ask, and don't expect it to be free."

"The password is Aapep," Selwyn said, standing to one side as the wall slid open letting warm air from the Common Room waft out into the corridor. The moved inside where the prefects herded them over to one of the crackling fires. Holly could feel the heat creep across her skin.

The common room was very dark, with the torches and the flickering flames from the fires casting eerie shadows over every surface. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lighting but once they did Holly could see it was quite elegant. None of the furniture was cluttered together giving plenty of space between each area though none of it cluttered into corners, it would be tough to find somewhere to go unnoticed entirely. There were tables for working in groups here and there and several different hallways leading off from the main room. The windows were black at the moment though she suspected it would be more water than daylight that would be visible through them. A large notice board was on the wall near the entrance, and she noted a few bookcases full of books.

"The password changes fortnightly and will be posted on the notice board so please pay attention. Other criteria such as clubs and activities you can participate in can also be found here along with any announcements that you need to be aware of," the Selwyn continued, "To be Slytherin is to be great. Salazar Slytherin looked for the seeds of greatness in his chosen students. We are the house of the ambitious. Each and every one of you as the potential inside of you to be great, Slytherin will help you find the power within yourself to achieve your ambitions, to use your cunning and strengthen your abilities."

A brown haired boy stepped forward, "Our esteemed Headmaster, Heir to the Emperor, Lord Riddle belonged to House Slytherin and started on his journey of becoming the great wizard he is within these walls. This means that there are certain expectations which we as Slytherins must meet."

The boy continued with a smirk, "House Slytherin for the last five years has maintained a perfect record with the highest number of house points scored throughout the year, along with a significant percentage of our students being on top of the League and it is a record we intend to keep."

"As already mentioned we look out for our own. The corridors of Hogwarts can throw up surprises for the unwary, and you'll be glad you've got the serpents on your side as you move around the school. This brings us to the first rule of the Slytherin House, 'Your house is your family. Family stands together', as far as we are concerned as a member of this house - you are a family," Selwyn murmured, her voice carrying through the room.

"The Common Room does not belong to you; you are no longer at home and the apple of your parent's eyes. Respect that it belongs to everyone and keep it neat. Our Head of House Professor Snape has detentions designed to enforce this rule. Remember this rule," another prefect added with a smirk that said he would enjoy the idea of someone breaking that rule.

Selwyn shot him a look before taking the stage once again, "Arguments with another Slytherin are only permitted in the Slytherin House. Outside these walls we are united, we give no one any weakness to use against us."

"Greatness is expected of us, by ourselves, our families, our Head of House, and our Headmaster. But greatness does not come easy. Study time is mandatory, once again if you do not understand then seek help, but remember little snakes, Slytherins despise the free lunch. Nothing is free," the boy added.

"Over the course of the first two weeks our Head of House will arrange meetings with you all, this identifies any areas that need to be addressed and allows him to get an understanding of your mindset and what it is you want to achieve in your years within the Slytherin House. It is mandatory to attend, a list will be posted of your time slot, and I strongly suggest you do not miss your allocated time." Selwyn stated.

"Tomorrow morning before the beginning of the first lesson you will receive your orientation. Your timetable will be explained in detail along with the marking system that is used at Hogwarts and a list of extra curriculum activities that will be available to you. I suggest you all are well rested before your first day. I guarantee you will need your energy," Selwyn continued, "Girls are on the left and boys are on the right. Oh and boys, I wouldn't suggest trying to enter the girl's dormitories. You won't like the consequences. Good night."

Holly followed the others down the hallway tiredly until she found her dormitory, 'Holly Black', written above 'Millicent Bulstrode', 'Tracy Davies', 'Daphne Greengrass', and 'Pansy Parkinson'. She pushed the door open making a bee-line towards the bed that had her trunk at the foot of it. Silently Holly changed and was grateful that her housemates followed suit, while Holly knew she would have to talk to them eventually but didn't feel quite up to it tonight. She slipped under the covers of her bed and stared up at the canopy and waited. Holly felt uneasy about sharing a room with four other people and knew it would take some time for her to adjust to her new surroundings. So she waited and listened to her dormmates; slowly one by one she could hear the breathing shift as they fell asleep.

* * *

Holly couldn't sleep.

Even as she listened to the heavy breathing of her dormmates, she was unable to switch her mind off and allow herself to sleep.

She blinked.

Her mind twisting and turning over the Sorting Hat's words. _Your cursed Miss Black._ _Your memories aren't all there._

It was a strange and horrific feeling, not being able to trust yourself. And while there had always been a nagging feeling in the back of her mind, the _voice_ as Holly often referred it as. A voice she had never actually associated with as being her own mind which was an equally disturbing idea, hearing voices that you didn't associate as your own. Voices that answered back.

Then there were the dreams, the dreams that told her to remember, and dreams of a man who she only referred to as the 'man' in her mind that she knew and yet didn't. There had been a certain familiarity when she walked down Diagon Alley, and when she had first started practising magic, there had been that _welcoming_ feeling, a sense of coming home she had never experienced before. _As far as you are aware, but you had to have to recognise it as such._

Holly sighed and sat up, peering through her hangings, looking at the small windows that looked through the lake though it was impossible to tell exactly what time it was. She would have to add it to the list of things she needed to learn; a way to tell time, or even purchase a watch.

She knew the Prefects had mentioned a curfew for what time they needed to go to bed, but there had been no mention of any restrictions on when they could get up.

Padding quietly out of bed, Holly dressed silently, pulling a robe over her pyjamas. Carefully ensuring she made as little noise as possible. Ingrained skills from the Warren than would be equally as useful to her here, _or at least until you learn spells that will help disguise noise._ Mentally she added it to the list. With one last glance to ensure she hadn't disturbed any of the other girls, she slipped out of the room and down the stairs to the common room.

The common room was deserted, empty of life except for the crackling flames of the fire that kept the room pleasantly warm. Holly walked over to the common room entrance, surprised that there was no obvious way to open the door; by chance, she whispered the password, pleased that the door slid open for her.

She paused for a few brief minutes allowing her eyes to adjust to the surrounding darkness before she began to explore.

The dungeons were still and quiet, unlike the library or even the Warren, Holly didn't know her environment, something she was determined to change as quickly as she could. While neither darkness nor silence had never troubled her, in fact, she had always felt comforted by it, here in the dungeons she allowed herself to be cautious. She stretched out her hands and let her fingers to trace along the wall as a guide.

Even with a good sense of direction, it didn't take her long to get lost. Not that she minded she wanted to explore the area that was closest to her new 'home'. She turned left and right again, and down another set of stairs to what appeared to be an even lower level of the dungeons.

She poked her head into various doorways, which seemed to be mostly disused and dusty classrooms and one storage room. It seemed this part of the dungeons had largely been forgotten and would be a useful place to store anything of value, especially supplies that she may need and have them remain undiscovered.

 _Or for somewhere to practice spells without preying observing eyes,_ she silently mused.

Just as she was considering turning back the way she had came, something caught her attention out the corner of her eye. It looked like another doorway, one that she would have missed entirely had it not been for the glowing etchings engraved into the stone around it. They were beautiful, and as she took a step closer, they glowed brighter. It was calling to her, like a song it hummed along her skin making the hairs on her arms stand on edge.

When she was within touching distance, she raised her hand to trace the nearest etching.

"I am impressed, I hadn't expected it to take you this long to be wondering about," the darkness spoke.

Holly would have jumped had she not recognised the voice instantly. Still, she had been startled enough to spin on her feet to face the imminent threat.

"I couldn't sleep," she stated as if it explained everything and yet in truth, it told nothing.

Riddle stepped forward; a light followed him causing the corridor to light up so she could see him properly. His face was blank, but from the relaxed stance, she could tell at the very least he wasn't actually angry with her.

"So you decided to wander aimlessly in the dungeons until morning, or someone found you?" he quizzed with a raised eyebrow.

"No," she denied, "I know my way back."

He looked at her, didn't say a word, but his expression clearly said he didn't believe her.

"I'm...," she started, "Okay so I am a little lost, but I am normally better at finding my way."

"I am aware. Hogwarts changes at will and is hard to navigate to the unwary. Come follow me, we will get you back to the Slytherin Common room before anyone else notices you are absent."

Holly cast one last glance at the door and was surprised to see it not there.

"But I..."

"Snow!" he warned.

She looked back at Riddle who was waiting a little ahead of her, nervously she glanced back at where the door should have been and back at Riddle again.

"I thought I saw something," she muttered before moving to follow him.

Either she had imagined the door with the bright etched symbols that had glowed, or they really had been there and carefully hidden when someone else had approached. She would need to come back again and look further into the possibility of the door that could hide, or at least confirm that she was finally cracking under the strain of everything and imagining doors that weren't really there. But if it had been there then she wanted to see what lay behind it. It had called to her, and her curiosity had answered.

It was yet just another question in a long list of questions she wanted answers for.

It didn't take them long to find the Slytherin Common room, travelling in silence. Riddle paused outside the entrance before turning to face her once again.

"I will let this little adventure slide Snow without making the punishment formal, there is no need to ostracise you from your house before the term has actually begun. But as a member of my former house I do expect you to follow the rules of Hogwarts and leave your night time exploration to outside Hogwarts walls," he warned, "As it is I expect you to report to me Saturday evening where we will discuss the situation further."

He left her to whisper the password and creep back into the Common Room. She was grateful that nobody was up to question her. Still uncertain of the time she made her way back to her room and her bed, slipping her robe off and getting back into her covers.

She felt more rested after her exploration, and while her mind was still asking questions, they were questions she was easily able to push aside and allow herself to drift to sleep to the sounds of breathing from her dormmates.

* * *

XXX

* * *

He felt a tickle running down the length of his spine, an early warning that there had been a shift in the wards, and that the house was welcoming home his brother.

Sirius sipped his drink, relishing in the familiar burn of the firewhisky, as he waited for his brother to find him. He knew it wouldn't take long; Regulus would recognise the difference in the house instantly and would understand what it meant, and rather than leaving he would want to find out exactly what his return meant and how it would affect him and his son. If nothing else he could count on his brother's predictability, especially when the safety of his family was at stake.

He listened to the familiar creaks and groans of the floorboards above him, the slight change as someone made their way upstairs, _his nephew_ , Regulus would want him as far away from danger as possible. Not that Sirius could blame him, parental love was why he was here in the first place, his nephew hadn't factored into his plans, and while he would need to ensure his silence and his brother's cooperation he fully intended to ensure his nephew remained far from harm, both physically and mentally.

Of course, it would help him if his brother wasn't aware of that fact and thought of him as nothing more than a cold bastard that had the potential to harm his son.

It would be better for him if Regulus hated him anyway.

The grandfather clock ticked away, and it felt like an age before he finally heard footsteps descending the stairs to the kitchen, though he knew it was only a few moments. He leant back into his chair, glass in one hand and the other gripped around his wand and waited.

He silently counted the number of steps in his mind.

 _Three. Two. One._

The door swung open.

The light of a wand glared into view, his instincts kicked in, _"_ _Expelliarmus!"_

He watched as his brother's wand flew out of his hand and landing on the kitchen floor with a clatter.

Another flick of his wand and he silently summoned the wand to himself, and out of the reach of his brother.

He smirked, "Hello brother, why don't you join me?"


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you for the reviews, the story favourites and follows.

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X

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Chapter 9 - **A Most Serious Discussion**.

The silence was deafening.

Sirius wasn't sure it was possible, but as it stretched out between Regulus and himself, it felt as if the whole world was pressing down on them.

He studied his brother, allowing himself to focus on something other than the silence. Regulus had changed a lot in the last fifteen years. Gone was the shy, quiet, uncertain teenager with the baby face. Instead, his brother had grown into the fine features of the Black family, noticeably pale skin with high cheekbones. His eyes were a slightly darker shade of grey and his hair as black as night.

As he stood with his arms crossed rigidly in the doorway, Sirius could almost see their father standing there, grey eyes giving nothing away while his face was like stone, his thoughts and feelings hidden behind an impenetrable mask. He didn't quite hold the same presence their father had, but the similarity between them was unnerving.

"What are you doing here?"

"I missed you brother," he grinned.

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Regulus asked his jaw clenching with every word.

Sirius snorted, "Cleary I am not here to enjoy your hospitality."

Regulus moved from the doorway, "You never could be serious could you?"

"I'm always Sirius," he laughed.

Regulus rolled his eyes and sighed, "That joke was old a long time ago, I see that the last decade has done nothing for your humour, or...your etiquette."

"I forgot how unidentifiable _your_ sense of humour was, Reggie."

His brother winced ever so slightly at the use of his old nickname. It didn't give him any pleasure to taunt his brother, but it seemed even after all this time they fell into that familiar pattern of old; he the disappointing heir and Reggie, the perfect son.

"Why have you returned now after ten years? You know perfectly well there is a kill order on your head. What is to stop me from turning you over myself?"

"A little danger gets the blood flowing dear brother."

"Gryffindor even now, reckless and foolhardy."

"Surely we are past such taunts."

"Not if you remain the same," Regulus answered, pulling a chair out from under the table, "but if you are unwilling to respond to the question, maybe I should deduce. You are here for your daughter...or rather your lack of one."

Sirius didn't answer as he watched his brother sit down.

Reggie smirked, "You were never as smart as you thought you were. You forgot about the Family Tree, it self-updates. When I read the article declaring your daughter, imagine my surprise, as I never recalled her on the family tree."

Sirius remained silent.

"A question begs though if she is not a Black then who is she?" his brother's smirk widened ever so slightly, "for you to be involved and so concerned about her safety there is only one possible option. She is a Potter."

He didn't answer content with letting his brother rattle on.

"But then that brings up interesting questions doesn't it Sirius, how were you able to claim her as a Black, blood tests cannot be cheated and how is it no one is able to recognise her as a Potter? How did she even survive when she is supposed to be dead?"

"Have you finished?" he asked, keeping his tone emotionless all the while his insides were turning. He fought the urge to reach for his magic, refusing to give his brother the upper hand by tipping him off.

"For now."

"Blood doesn't lie little brother; she has Black blood in her veins a simple spell subdued any other bloodlines running through her veins."

"Blood magic! You turned to blood magic, my you do surprise me," Regulus answered, his eyebrow rising ever so slightly, "You fought so vigorously against our parent's teachings to only use them in the end."

"It suited my purpose."

"So the Potter child survived rather than dying with her parents. Valuable information dear brother."

"Speculation on your part, you have no evidence, and the blood test is proof that she is my daughter," he shot back, keeping his mask of indifference firmly in place, even as the heat in his voice betrayed him.

"Even a shadow of doubt will be enough to sentence her to death, what is to stop me from just declaring it a lie?"

"I am the Heir; you have to obey me should I command it."

He reached for the magic let it trickle through his fingers like water; before pushing it outwards. His brother shivered under it, he knew now he had Regulus full attention. He didn't even need to command him or threaten him. Regulus would obey so long as he was alive because it was too ingrained in them to not follow the Heir.

But for good measure, he would give his brother, even more, incentive.

"And you want your son to live."

He hated himself for voicing the words. For making the threat.

Sirius could feel the temperature drop the moment he made the statement. The control his brother prided himself on all but vanished as his eyes blazed with murder directed at him. His magic perked ever so slightly like a guard dog.

"Bastard!" his brother hissed at him.

"I assure you mother and father were married at the time of my conception," he smiled.

Regulus launched himself across the table, anger burned in his eyes, his hands attempting to grab hold of whatever he could get a grip on.

His magic reacted instantly, pushing back at his brother with a ferocity that surprised even him. It snapped and snarled and lashed until Regulus was on the floor panting under the weight of it, a slash ran across his cheek, and blood dripped from the open wound.

Sirius pushed back on his feet, his chair screeching across the tiled floor as it moved back with him out of reach of his brother. He stood slowly.

"You know better than to attack the Heir _brother,_ " he paused meeting his brother's eyes. "No harm shall befall your son as long as I live, provided you do as I say."

Regulus snorted as he straightened himself up, leaning against the table his body visibly shaking in a fury.

"You are asking me to commit treason; harm will befall us _fucking_ all should we be discovered."

"Only if we are caught."

"Your arrogance knows no bound," Regulus snarled.

"Confidence and careful planning. I have had the last ten years to perfect this."

"Perfect what exactly?"

"It is of little importance."

"You are putting _my_ son's life at risk! Your own flesh and blood for this, clearly it is fucking important!" his brother's hands had curled into fists by his side.

He stayed silent.

"Even now your loyalty is to them, it was always to James fucking Potter, from the moment you meet him you never once looked back at your family. Tell me, without Potter whose side of the war would you have actually fought on?" His brother spat.

The question caught him by surprise. It wasn't something he had ever given much thought on. The what ifs? There were far too many of them to even really consider. What if he had never met James? What if he had never been sorted into Gryffindor? In the end, it didn't matter, he had been at odds with his parent's view before he had even stepped onto the Hogwarts Express. What happened after happened - Grindelwald's conquest over everything, he never would have stood ideally by regardless of who his friends were.

"I would have fought for what I believed in Regulus, I would have fought...I did fight for Britain and the Ministry as long as they continued to fight, for our freedom. The freedom to live our lives however we pleased and not under a tyrant," He answered hotly; already he could feel his blood beginning to boil.

"We are free!" Regulus snapped back at him, his anger lacing through his words, "For the first time in centuries we are free. We no longer have to hide who we are, magic can be practised openly, the old ways can be followed without fear of prosecution, we no longer live in fear of who we are."

"Is this really freedom? Do you think Grindelwald..."

"Don't say his name! He is our Lord Emperor, _he_ liberated us!" Regulus hissed.

Sirius rolled his eyes, "Oh please tell me you don't believe that crap. He is a man playing God!"

"That was always your problem, wasn't it brother! You never did believe in the bigger picture, the Greater Good,"

"Greater Good? War isn't for the greater good," he growled, his hands smacking down loudly onto the wooden table. "It is bloody and ugly and brings nothing but pain and despair. It is dark, and once it sinks its claws into you and it never _fucking_ leaves you. It is never fucking ending, and yet you keep fighting because if you don't, then, you lose everything you are fighting for - everything you love. It is swallowed by the darkness and the ever consuming greed that is behind a mad man's war."

He sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair; the anger was still there like a heavy overcast, but mostly he was tired. Tired of the same old argument between them, the same old disagreements on politics and right and wrong and the way the world should be.

"He didn't fight for the Greater Good. He fought for his own selfish desires, like every Dark Lord before has done. The only difference is he has convinced the world, it was for the Greater Good."

He sat down on the chair and poured himself a glass of firewhisky. His throat was dry, _gods do I need a drink._

He looked up at his brother; his shoulders were slumped ever so slightly, almost as if he was as tired of this argument as he was. The fight was still there in his eyes, but it had deflated considerably.

"He doesn't care, Reggie," he took a sip, let the liquor comfortably burn his throat, "He doesn't care about any of us. He doesn't care about the old ways or the traditions. He cares for power and his alone. It isn't freedom he has given us but a gilded cage. We disagree, we voice an opinion that doesn't fit the ideals of those that rule us then we are killed. Muggles are nothing more than the slaves to our whims, they have no freedom, and if you _really_ followed the old ways, you would know that is not right."

Even to him, he could hear the dejection in his voice. This conversation hadn't gone as he had expected, Regulus had surprised him with his line of questioning, but then he had always wanted to know everything.

"Muggles prosecuted us for centuries."

"The past cannot be undone Regulus, no matter how much we may wish it. Ask yourself are you happy in this world. Do you actually believe or do you have doubts that you hide well," he took another sip of his drink.

"This peace won't last forever; Grindelwald wants to conquer the world. The Soviet Union and America will be next. He has just been binding his time, and the treaty gives him the ruse to do so. Your son will grow up to be a soldier just like we did; cannon fodder in a war led by a power hungry man who wants to rule the world."

"What do you know?"

"More than you. But it is of little importance, the war that is to come is not my problem, keeping Holly alive is, and you dear brother are going to help me do just that."

"How exactly am I going to do that?"

"By claiming her when the time is right, and offering her shelter."

"And if someone recognises her as Potter's daughter rather than a Black. She is bound to look like one of her parents. Dear God, does she even know the truth?"

"They won't recognise her," he answered, ignoring the second question. Regulus didn't need to know everything.

"How are you so sure brother?"

Sirius pushed the box on the table forward, "Because of this."

Regulus eyes widened, though Sirius was pretty sure it was in fear rather than surprise.

"Please tell me that's not what I think it is?"

"Sorry, brother it is precisely what you think it is."

Regulus looked down at the box and back up towards him.

"Where the fuck did you find a Lethe Box?"

"Around, and you dear brother are going to put it in the family vault, at least until the time is right," he answered with a small smile.

"And what is to stop me from breaking it?"

"Your son's life."

Regulus shot him a look but didn't say anything. Inwardly Sirius sighed with relief. He had been expecting a fight, but he hadn't expected it to go the way it had gone. Not that it was important, the box would be protected, and as long as the box was intact, then Holly was protected.

And only when the time was right then she would break it, but until then she was safe.

 _Far more than she would be if she were with you right now._

* * *

XXX

* * *

Holly woke as she usually did, shifting from slumber to alertness, as her mind registered sound. Her body tensed and readied itself to fight or flee on instinct. Only relaxing ever so slightly as her consciousness caught up to the fact that she was no longer living in the library or even her room at Riddle's Manor, and that she was now sharing a room with other people.

It was an unnerving concept. It didn't sit well with her, and for entirely different reasons compared to the girl that had mumbled loudly, the night before, about sharing a room with anyone let alone four other girls.

 _New place, new life. You're in a castle full of witches and wizards now, not all of them friendly._

Keeping as still as she could, so not to alert anyone she was awake, she allowed herself a few peaceful moments of solitude. Watching the array of blue and green coloured lights dancing across her canopy, in rhythm to the moving water that reflected through the windows as the sun rays penetrated through the lake.

As she lay there in the relative safety of being unobserved by the others, she listened to her dorm mates. One of them was slightly heavier on their feet than the others, Bulstrode, if she was going to hazard a guess, while another's breathing, was wheezing as if under strain.

It was going to take her a while to get used to them. In the library, she had known every sound, recognised instantly when something wasn't right. Here everything was new, different, and strange.

 _And a possible danger, the sooner you are able to protect yourself the better._

She knew sooner or later she would need to get up and interact with them, but for a few moments she was listening and learning. People tended to give more away about themselves if they thought they were unobserved. They let their guards down ever so slightly and by last night's interactions it was clear that the others knew each other, _or of_ each other. Maybe not friends but definitely acquaintances.

Only she was the outsider here, and she needed every advantage she could get.

 _Time to get up;_ she silently urged, _better to get it over and done with._

It was going to be a long day and the longer she put off the curious glances, the questions that were burning into her even if they weren't voiced the worse it would be. She was used to being on her own, being in her own company. The dog was unable to betray her secrets, and while Riddle had invaded her mind and seen every nitty-gritty detail of her fragmented life and made her more vulnerable to him than she had ever wanted to be, he still hadn't voiced any questions about what he had seen.

Sighing softly to herself she sat up.

 _Better to rip the bandage off than peel it slowly._

"Good Morning," Daphne Greengrass greeted with a cheerful smile, as Holly pulled back her canopy. While Holly had always been an early riser and a light sleeper, she had never been cheerful about it. She had been grateful for living to see another day, about surviving, but cheery - no she had never been cheerful in the mornings. It seemed Daphne was a happy morning person, or as Holly observed, trying to give that impression. The smile didn't quite reach her eyes, and while it was genuine, it hid something else. Reading people was a skill that had been honed and sharpened, she doubted she would lose it and would need it even more now... _perhaps_.

"Good Morning," she replied with a small smile of her own.

"I didn't wake you did I?"

"No, I am an early riser anyway," she answered, as she stretched before getting out of the bed.

"You have enough time to shower before breakfast," Daphne advised.

"Thank you," Holly nodded, hiding the surprise she felt as she gathered her things from her trunk.

She was aware of the other girls' eyes watching her, though none of them would meet her gaze or say anything to her in the way of greeting. Content for the time being it seemed to watch and wait in silence.

Holly knew it wouldn't last. But while it did she was able to examine them freely. Besides Daphne, there were two brunettes and one blonde haired girl. Bulstrode was taller than them all and had a thicker build. The other two, Davies and Parkinson though who was who she couldn't say, were of a similar size and were talking quietly among themselves. The blonde haired girl talking over the brunette, who seemed to be hanging on the other girl's every word.

As with the children that gathered together in the Warren, there were always those who sought to be on top of everyone else and would happily bully their way with those they perceived as being far weaker. Here it was for the time being perhaps less likely to end with a knife in the back literally, but there was always the figurative knives whose sting hurt just as much. She didn't want to get involved in any possible power games, but she wouldn't allow herself to be weak even for a moment.

She would never be weak again.

And so as they watched her out of the corner of their eyes she remained silent and unflinching as she walked past them towards the bathroom, refusing to break first.

The silence was not something that unnerved her.

Holly couldn't determine what it was they were waiting for exactly, but she was grateful to close the door behind her and escape the watching eyes.

She gave herself a mental shake as she stood up straight, undressed and stepped into the shower. She was a lot of things, a survivalist foremost but she wasn't a coward, and if she was going to be successful in ensuring she found her freedom, then Holly needed to learn everything she could in the meantime and plan. Running from stares was not an option.

Stepping out she double checked her reflection, ensuring that her face was clean and she hadn't turned green or something equally absurd, though when it came to magic, she supposed anything was possible. She dried her hair before braiding it, cleaned her teeth and dressed quickly. Another quick glance showed she was as presentable as she was capable of making herself. Fancy hairdos and styles of fashion had never been a priority and were as alien to her as living with muggles would be to all witches and wizards, but she had lost the street rat look she had had when she first started staying with Riddle. She no longer looked as thin in the face and underfed, her skin was cleaner and had more colour than she had previously had. But she didn't look like Daphne Greengrass or the other girls. She didn't look like she belonged to a well-to-do family or from a wealthy background but Holly was happy that she would at the very least not embarrass Riddle. Not that she was sure why she cared, other than she didn't anticipate the trouble he would give her if she behaved like an uneducated, uncivilised animal.

If she acted muggle.

 _That's what they still see. Someone who doesn't belong. Don't let them get to you._

Wearily she sighed before re-entering the dorm room where she was meet with an impatient growl and body shoving past her, "Finally, you took forever," the blonde haired girl snapped before shutting the door firmly behind her.

Holly blinked in surprise.

Daphne laughed softly, "Parkinson, she hasn't yet had the chance to preen herself, it makes her grumpy."

"I will take your word for it," Holly replied, as she moved to her trunk and carefully put her things away, "Do you know her well?"

"Well, enough."

 _Answering the question yet giving nothing away_ she silently mused.

"How will we know which books we will need?"

"We will get our timetables during our orientation, and I am sure that we will be allowed to collect our books before our first class," Daphne answered as she prepared her bag.

"Though I would recommend getting the parchment, quill and ink ready before hand, that way you only have fewer items to collect," she added.

Following the girl's advice, Holly quickly gathered the general things she would need in her own bag before leaving it on her bed ready to collect after breakfast.

Satisfied that everything was as ready as it could be she followed Daphne out of their room and down towards the common room, where a few of the older students were waiting for them with a few fellow first years.

"Ah right, I will take the first lot up, I'm starving," an athletic-looking boy with sandy brown hair greeted.

"You're always hungry Pucey," another joked.

"I'm a growing boy, I need to keep my strength up," Pucey replied with a devilish smile and eyes that glistened with amusement that reminded her too much of Will just before he did something foolish, though Pucey didn't look like the same type as Will.

"I'm Adrian Pucey if you would like to follow me I will take those of you that are here up to the Great Hall for breakfast."

Holly noted that Malfoy, Nott and Zabini were amongst some of the other first years following Pucey.

It didn't seem to take quite as long to get to the Great Hall from the Common Room as it had done the previous night though she still struggled to memorise every turn they made. She would need more time to explore a little on her own to get a better lay of the land surrounding her new home, her previous venture the night before had not been as satisfying as she had hoped, despite her curiosity at the glowing door. Though her brief encounter with Riddle had eased some of the nerves, she had been feeling about being in Hogwarts.

 _Know your exits, know your escape routes, and know where to hide._

Pucey led them to the middle of the Slytherin table while he chatted to Nott and Zabini. Holly could already see some of the older years already seated eating and talking amongst themselves. Clearly, they were the early risers of the House.

Breakfast wasn't quite as extravagant as the feast had been but the food was no less delicious. Holly helped herself to a slice of toast and a couple rashers of bacon before adding a 'pain au chocolat' to her plate. She had always liked sweet things, they had been a rare treat in the Warren, living with Riddle had introduced her to the finer cuisine available, and 'pain au chocolat' had quickly become a favourite at any time of day.

"What classes are you looking forward to Black?"

She blinked in surprise at the question, already noting the waiting glances of both her year mates and Pucey for her answer.

"I am looking forward to them all," she replied, sipping her pumpkin juice hoping the action would mask the hesitation that had been in her voice.

"No particular favourite in mind then?"

"Learning magic as a collective is something I am looking forward to. As to a favourite subject, I can't say I am an expert in any particular area to form a real opinion on them or even what to expect from them."

Pucey smiled at her slightly, "Learning all magic is a good response, forming favourites now could possibly lead you to overlook another area that is equally as relevant and useful."

"Of course considering where you came from learning magic all together must be a true privilege for you, a dream come true," Parkinson sniped as she and a few of the other first years joined the table.

Silence fell over the table at the comment as those close enough to hear looked between Parkinson and her. Holly could see she had two choices available to her, ignore the comment completely or respond. She couldn't determine what the girl was angling for or even if she was angling for anything yet, but the comment meant more than a mere statement.

 _All most as if she is deliberately reminding people of where you actually came from. Not that it is a secret it's all over their newspapers._

Pucey, however, saved her from answering, whether to ensure that no points were lost on their first day or simply because he had little interest in potential quarrels between first years.

"It is a privilege to us all. Hogwarts never used to be so diverse in the subjects it taught. Headmaster Riddle has ensured that _we_ all have the opportunity to learn as much as we can and in doing so has improved the standard of education received at this school, it far surpasses any other school in Britain," he told them firmly.

It left little room for argument without fully chiding them in public before continuing,"The top students are heavily recruited, both within the Ministry of Magic here and the Empire officials, opportunities like that don't crop up often. Work hard, ensure you are top of the League and win your matches and there will be no shortage of offers out there for you."

"League?" Parkinson asked, with a slight frown.

Holly was grateful that someone else had voiced the question. Riddle had made no mention of a League when he had talked about Hogwarts.

A dark haired boy, with blue eyes and sharp features next to Pucey, chuckled to himself, "Of course first years wouldn't know about the League, they haven't had orientation yet."

"Rosier," Pucey warned.

"I'm only teasing them," Rosier said with a smile.

"You are aware of the House Cup and the points system?"

"It was mentioned briefly last night, our triumphs earn us house points and the house with the most points at the end of the school year is awarded the House Cup," Malfoy answered.

"That is correct, it has been a tradition since the beginning of Hogwarts." Pucey agreed, "allows the students to work towards a goal of unity for their house, of course, it does create a sense of competitiveness between the Houses, which has been known to get out of hand at times."

"The League is something new, and something Headmaster Riddle introduced, he didn't feel that we were being educated in the right way. Most wizards and witches didn't even know how to duel properly, so he created a new system that ensured everyone learnt and wanted to learn. The League ranks every individual student, each year group, and each House," Rosier continued.

"How?" Parkinson asked

"Hush little bird, your elders, are talking," Rosier warned, and Parkinson looked put out by the comment, "I am speaking about duels. Within Evocation after your first term, you will begin partaking in contests, depending on how many matches you win determines your ranking and placement in the League for your year and in turn the school as a whole."

"Of course your losses will also impact your ranking to," he continued with a smirk, "Every student ranked within the top ten of their year group are automatically awarded fifty house points."

"So the house with the most students on the top ten within each year group earns more points," Malfoy said unsurely.

"Precisely, a far more efficient way of motivating students than just relying on Quidditch to gain us more points, not that Quidditch isn't a fascinating sports mind you," Rosier added as Pucey glared at him, "But it is only limited to seven players for each house. The duels ensure that everyone has an equal chance of benefiting their House collectively as well as benefiting themselves and their ranking in the League."

"Not to mention watching the Matches at the end of term is always entertaining and more my calling than anything."

"So how does it work then?" she asked curiously.

"Well towards the end of your first term, so late November, early December you will start learning about duelling in Evocation, all in preparation for the end of year matches," Rosier answered, sipping his drink. He smiled at them, though Holly wasn't sure whether she would class it as a warm smile, more amusement at their expense before he continued.

"Each of you will face the first years from the other Houses as your names are drawn out, and you will duel until you lose. Eventually, there is an overall winner for each year group. The end of year contests, overall performance over the year and class work will all be taken into consideration for your ranking. And it is all classes not just Evocation."

"Of course you could be poor in class but the skills you show during the matches that can help increase your ranking," Rosier added.

"The House games work a lot like Quidditch, but each year group faces an opposing House year group to win points, essentially each House has seven matches to win. All of you firsties will work together to beat the other Houses first years, so my advice is to be the best you could possibly be," Pucey explained, throwing Rosier another warning look. The other boy appeared not to notice or simply didn't care.

"So for the House matches your year group is your team?" Zabini asked

"Exactly, which can be entertaining to watch, and most chaotic," Rosier answered cheerfully, Holly wasn't sure why he was cheerful.

An older student snorted before adding, "I don't remember your year being that successful Rosier at the House Match, in fact, if I recall you all floundered around unable to work together."

Rosier glared at the boy, "A minor mishap Flint, that hasn't happened again. We have after all won last year's House Matches for the Second Years."

"Only just," Flint laughed.

Rosier turned away from Flint and back to them, "Another thing about the League though is students who rank low are limited in what options they have available to them come their third year, Professors don't feel they are able to cope with some of the available electives, my advice stay on top."

"What does that mean?" Daphne queried from the side of her.

"Well for starters Headmaster Riddle doesn't accept students that are low ranking in his third-year class. He teaches everyone for the first and second year, assesses each individual and depending on his assessment and the rankings by the end of the second year they are dropped from his class and passed to another Professor," Pucey answered.

"Cuts down on the number of students he has to the teacher, freeing more of his time focus on those that are worth teaching," she summarised.

"Got it in one Black, keeps track over the next two years, tests, watches and whoever is on top of the list gets into his class, the others are moved down to another Professor. Still, a good Professor but they aren't the Headmaster, and I can assure you everyone will strive to keep that class if nothing else," Pucey chuckled.

"Surely those from _good_ families get chosen first?" Parkinson asked.

"Those who prove their worth are picked, regardless of their family. If you show you are willing and work hard, you will be in his class," Pucey answered with a shake of his head, "If you waste his time you will never be in his class."

"That's outrageous," Parkinson huffed looking very put out of the thought, "why would we be a waste of his time?"

Nobody answered, and Holly didn't feel that anyone would point out that if you needed to ask the question then maybe you weren't worthy. Names held power, she couldn't deny that, but if you were weak, it didn't matter how powerful your name was.

Riddle weeded out the weak, and not just Riddle, by the sounds of things, the school collectively. Only the strong survived, only the strong succeeded.

Win at all costs.

 _Which sounds exactly like him anyway and since he is in charge of the school he can control that._

Pucey and Rosier's words were food for thought, and from the deep looks, her fellow housemates were wearing she wasn't the only one chewing on them. Only a few of them remained emotionless, almost as if this knowledge was not new to them and they had been aware of the listings that marked the school.

"What is Evocation like?" Zabini asked, distracting the first years from thoughts of League and performing poorly.

"Hard, challenging, intense. Take your pick. The Headmaster isn't going to go easy on any of you just because you are first years. You might get a breathing space for the first two weeks while you are learning to master techniques, but it will get physical and practical pretty quickly," Pucey answered.

"It is amazing, though. No one can argue that, and when you start duelling, that's when it really begins, when it's real. You're putting everything your learning to use, not all hypothetical and stuff. I mean sure the Professors aren't going to let us die, but you can get hurt pretty badly," Rosier added with a laugh, "I wonder which of you will flake first."

Holly could see the fear flash across some of her year mates faces at the thought.

 _You will be okay; you have already survived his lessons,_ she mused silently, as everyone turned back to their own conversations and finishing their breakfast.

* * *

The Castle bell rang loudly across the hall, and Professor McGonagall rose from her seat at the High Table, "First years, please remain seated you will be briefed shortly."

"Sixth-year prefects, please remain behind you are excused from your first lesson to show the first years to their dorms to collect the books they require today, along with showing them to their first class," she added as the students rose from their seats.

The elder students filled out of the Great Hall, presumably to gather their own belongings before heading to their first class of the day.

Surveying the remaining children in the hall Holly was surprised at how many first years there were. Last night her nerves had taken over, and she hadn't paid too much attention to how many students that had been waiting alongside her to find their place in the school.

"Welcome once again to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I trust that you are all settling into your Houses," Professor McGonagall greeted with a warm smile, "and are ready to begin your magical journey."

With a wave of her hand, scrolls appeared in front of them with a pop and dropped to the table.

"You're Hogwarts Welcome Pack, inside you will find a definitive manual on School ethics, rules and regulations," she began.

"Your pack is linked to your records, with a personalised class and extra-curricular schedule, along with a detailed list of your year, house and school, rankings within the League. You will find a calendar complete with significant events and astronomical dates."

Holly broke the seal on her own pack and skimmed through the first page. It listed the rules and regulations of the school. The second page provided their class schedule, and from a quick glance, they would be taking eight classes overall for their first year.

"Upon your acceptance into Hogwarts, you were told that you had been chosen as the best and brightest. Hogwarts makes no mistakes," McGonagall continued, "as such; each one of you has been offered a unique opportunity, not only for the curriculum the school has to offer but also the unique way in which it is taught."

Whispers broke out over the statement, and McGonagall waited patiently for them to cease before continuing with her introduction.

"I am sure you have been informed of the School League that will rank you based on your individual performance throughout the year both with your class work and duels that each student participates in. You will be ranked amongst your Housemates, Year mates and collectively within the school," she continued, "Each and every one of you has a responsibility to yourself to work towards improving your rank. Just as you are capable of raising your position in the League table you are also capable of losing your rank should another student take the initiative to work hard and improve their own standing."

"You may believe that the League holds no bearing to your future once you have graduated from these walls and only holds weight within Hogwarts. This is a mistake. The League Ranks are equally recognised and taken into account as your O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T. grades for any future role you may wish to pursue after Hogwarts."

She gave them all a warning look as she spoke.

"In the past seven years, there has been an increase in internship offers and apprenticeships, from some of the best Masters of their field that the Empire has given to Hogwarts graduates. Your future is in your hands, only you can determine what you will achieve and how successful you will be. But for now, you need to focus on your first year, which should be a much more pressing concern for you all. "

Holly blinked in surprise.

"Hogwarts students attend eight classes during their first two years of schooling. Theory forms the foundation of your understanding of magical theory and is mandatory for the first two years. Your grade by the end of your second year will determine whether you proceed to the next level and join Spell Creation. I warn you now only students who achieve the highest grades will be considered for third year Spell Creation," McGonagall warned.

"Astronomy and History of Magic will be held once a week and the rest of your week will be divided equally amongst your remaining classes. They are as follows: Evocation, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Potions and of course Theory."

"There are many extra-curriculum activities and clubs you have the right to join, however, they are a privilege, and if we feel they are detrimental towards your classes and work, then we will enforce our right to deny you access."

The remainder of McGonagall's introduction informed them in detail about the extra-curricular activities that would be available to them, and that should they undertake any projects the Professors would be available for them provided it did not interfere with their class work.

In all Holly found her interest caught once or twice at the possibilities but would need to find out more information, while she understood she needed to blend in as much as possible she couldn't allow her attention to be torn away too much from her primary goal. It was just another thing she was going to have to take into consideration; now that she was finally at Hogwarts, Holly was hoping that she would be able to spend the time she needed to plan her next move. Learning everything she could was all well and good, but _she_ needed goals to work towards.

 _Just think of it as a heist, you have planned a few of them. It will take time; it isn't going to happen overnight. Patience._

"Finally, I must conclude with one final reminder; duelling in the halls is prohibited, and any student caught doing so will be punished severely. However, we fully understand the enthusiasm you will have to practice what you learn. Headmaster Riddle will show you the classrooms that the duelling will take place in. You may use the rooms outside of classes to practice duelling provided a Professor is present."

"So any extra curriculum activities catch your eye?" Daphne asked as they left the Great Hall following behind the prefects leading them to their dorm to collect their books.

"I'm not certain yet; I will have to look at them in more detail before making a decision. Have you seen anything that appeals to you?" She responded with mild curiosity.

"You mean besides the duelling?" Daphne smiled.

"I'm pretty confident that is a part of the class, not an extra curriculum," she laughed.

"Does sound fascinating though and I am certain that is what most people are going to be focusing on. Nobody is going to want to lose their matches, and they certainly aren't going to want to miss being taught by the Headmaster."

"No they aren't," she agreed, "it's smart, though, makes sure everyone works hard."

"That's one way to look at it," Daphne hummed in agreement.

Holly glanced at her, "What's another way to look at it?"

Daphne smiled but didn't answer; she just kept walking behind the prefects leaving Holly to her own thoughts or rather to stew over the words.


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you for reading this story, reviewing, adding to favourites and alerting this story.

Any spelling mistakes are my own.

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Chapter 10:- **First Day**

Riddle hadn't done Hogwarts justice or rather her own imagination hadn't done it justice as she had never dreamed that such a place could exist. As they dutifully followed the prefects to their first class, she felt as if her head was turning full circle at every moment. There was so much to see, so much to explore, Hogwarts was... _magnificent,_ she supposed the word summed it up nicely enough, but even then she wasn't sure it truly caught everything that Hogwarts seemed to be.

There were more staircases than she cared to count that seemed to move on their own accord. Narrow, rickety ones, along with sweeping and twisting ones. Students appeared to be everywhere, heading in either direction like a flowing river as they went about their own class schedules.

Holly was certain it would take her a lifetime to fully learn all the secrets of her new home, a lifetime she didn't have.

"So are you really not looking forward to any particular class?"

The question caught her by surprise, turning slightly she could see that Malfoy was walking side by side with her and she hadn't even noticed. _To distracted by the beauty of Hogwarts. Buckle up and pay attention._ It was a sloppy error on her part.

"I'm looking forward to classes, but I can't say I am looking forward to one subject over the other," she answered, noting that he matched her pace when she shifted it ever so slightly.

"Not even flying?" he pressed.

"I can't say I have given flying that much thought."

"Not given flying much thought?" he repeated, his eyes wide in surprise almost as if she had said the most scandalise thing possible, "Flying means being able to play Quidditch, I personally can't wait until tryouts, and being able to show the other houses how it's actually played."

"Quidditch, that's the sport with seven players that Pucey and Rosier were talking about right?"

He opened his mouth but quickly shut it. Content in just staring at her, in what Holly could only interpret as horror. _Scratch the last scandalise thing you've just said, that comment was far worse,_ she silently thought.

"You don't know about Quidditch?"

"I only know a little. It was briefly mentioned in a book I was reading over the summer, but it didn't go into much detail about the rules of the game."

Malfoy opened his mouth again in surprise, only this time he forgot himself for just a moment longer before he gained control of himself and closed it quickly.

"You will have to forgive Draco, the idea of someone not knowing what Quidditch really is is rather scandalise in his eyes," Daphne laughed as she joined Holly on the left.

Holly nodded in acceptance, uncertain whether she should explain further as to why she didn't know or leave the statement as it was. It was surely obvious to everyone why she wouldn't know things, and while she was unashamed of growing up with muggles, she had a feeling that people would be more than happy to use it against her.

She supposed though it would only be polite to reciprocate in the conversation of some kind.

"Are you looking forward to Magical Theory?"

"Professor Doge is renowned for his contribution to the study of Magical Theory. His works are well known throughout the Empire," Malfoy answered.

"Though I am most looking forward to Evocation and being taught by the Headmaster," Malfoy added, "Of course, you have had some experience of that yourself, Black."

Holly heard the unasked question. The first of many she had no doubt. She was uncertain though what to make of the boy who was asking or why he had even started a conversation with her.

"The Headmaster is a good teacher, much like Pucey mentioned at breakfast he expects hard work and effort and won't accept anything less than your very best," she answered, avoiding going into too much detail about the lessons they had shared. She hoped it was a neutral answer, despite not knowing really what to make of Riddle the last thing she needed was someone to feel she was disrespectful about him.

Daphne gave her a small smile as they entered the Magical Theory classroom together, almost as if she was saying _I know you aren't a hundred percent honest with that answer._

Choosing to ignore it Holly focused on taking her seat next to the girl grateful at the very least that it was two to a desk and that she wouldn't have to socialise with others. She doubted the Professor would take kindly to first years not paying attention.

Holly noted that Ravenclaw students were also piling into the room.

"Some classes we are just on our own, others we share with the first years of the other houses. It frees the Professor's schedules up," Daphne whispered as they pulled their textbook, ink, parchment and quills out of their bag.

"You are just full of useful information," Holly replied.

"It pays to be well informed," Daphne answered, just as the Professor started to call names.

Holly wasn't certain what to expect from Magical Theory, Riddle had covered some ground within the subject but had never delved too deep into it. But for one thing she could say for definite Professor Doge was not what she had been expecting. The Wizard was of medium height with white hair and a pock-marked face.

"What makes a great Wizard or Witch?"

The question caught the first years by surprise, but Professor Doge seemed undeterred by their stunned silence. In fact, the wizard just continued to stare at them from the front of the room, never once blinking.

"Anyone?" he asked, glancing around the classroom for any sign that someone was going to answer, "Okay how about you?" he continued, pointing to a blonde hair Ravenclaw boy.

"How well they do something," he answered tentatively.

"That could be said about everyone Mr...?"

"Goldstein."

"Well Mr Goldstein it was a good attempt, but I can tell you that it takes more than that to make a great wizard or witch."

The Professor nodded once before turning back to the whole class, "Anyone else willing to have a guess?"

Several hands slowly rose.

"Yes, Miss?"

"Patil," the girl answered before continuing to answer, "talent."

"No."

She quickly pointed to the next student with a raised hand, "Mr?"

"Malfoy," Malfoy answered smoothly, "Strength."

"Definitely not!" the Professor snapped, "We often confuse strength with powerful and greatness. But one does not have to be strong to be great. In fact, I have found it is often the most humble of us that are the greatest."

The Professor stepped forward, down between the rows of first years.

"Miss?"

"Greengrass," Daphne answered, "Skill."

"No." His tone was gentler. "Though a critical attribute and one we expect from all witches and wizards. Willingness to _use_ magic is not the same as the ability to use magic."

Holly felt a tingling at the top of her spine. What would she say if he asked her? Surely all the possible answers had been offered already. She drew in a quiet breath and let it out slowly. He wouldn't ask her anyway surely. She was the unimportant girl...

"Miss Black?"

"Control."

The Professor met her eyes with his own grey-blue ones. They were cold, but she couldn't see any disgust in them as he looked at her.

"No," he sighed and moved to the front of the room. Holly stared at the wooden table before her.

Professor Doge stopped in front of the desk and crossed his arms. He looked around the room again.

"Many attributes make up a witch or wizard. But the most important quality of a witch or wizard is knowledge," he paused, and then looked at each of the students who had spoken in turn. "Without it their strength is useless, you have nothing to be skilled at or talented in, despite your best intentions."

The Professor's eyes flickered towards Holly.

"But Professor, how can one be great if you don't have power? Surely in a duel the weaker of the two would always lose," Parkinson voiced.

"I won't deny that being powerful gives you an advantage over an opponent that is magically weaker than you certainly, but if that opponent has more knowledge at using magic I can guarantee that they will have the higher chance of winning."

Professor Doge looked at all of them and laughed, "I can see that you doubt my words. All of you have performed accidental magic at least on one occasion as you grew up. But for the purpose of this example shall we use Miss Black as our case study."

As one, the class let out a breath. Holly mentally winced as everyone turned to look at her. Meeting the Professor's gaze, she looked for clues as to why he had decided to use her as an example but found no indicator. Instead, she mentally counted to calm herself as ensure no emotion crossed her face as the rest of the first years stared at her.

"As I am certain we are all aware Miss Black performed a powerful piece of magic over the summer rather publically which is why I have chosen to use her as an example," Professor Doge began, "she produced a shield powerful enough to allow her to pass through magical flames unscathed. One would assume this show of magic would indicate that Miss Black is potentially powerful, correct?"

The class stayed silent, all intent to watch her. Holly wished they wouldn't, but instead focused her attention on the Professor.

"Now Miss Black if I asked you to reproduce that shield now would you be able to do so?"

"No," she answered honestly.

"Why not?" Professor Doge asked though Holly couldn't hear any disappointment in his tone, he had fully been expecting that answer.

"I don't have the knowledge to do so."

The Professor smiled at her, "No you don't, and I wouldn't expect any first year to have the knowledge to do so before lessons have begun. Accidental magic acting on your desires to live no doubt incited your magic to shield you from the flames. Now, Miss Black, does this performance of magic make you a great witch?"

She blinked in surprise. That wasn't a question she had been expecting, but as soon as she turned it over in her mind, she could see the point that Professor Doge was trying to make.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it wasn't conscious. It wasn't controlled."

Professor Doge smiled wildly, "Five points to Slytherin. I apologise, Miss Black, it was not my intent to single you out of the class however your unique circumstances only add weight to my point."

He turned to face the rest of the class before continuing, "We can use any example of accidental magic, a three-year-old conjuring a toy that has been taken away from them or vanishing something that upsets or scares them. Powerful but uncontrolled. It is the _knowledge_ of how to control them that is what makes them great."

"Hogwarts has one of the largest and most comprehensive stores of knowledge in the Empire," Professor Doge continued, "During the years that you spend here that knowledge will be given to you. Depending on you as individuals will determine on how much knowledge is gleaned. If you pay attention, listen to what your Professors tell you and make use of the resources here such as the extensive library you will excel. You will gain knowledge of the spells, the skill to cast a spell correctly, to manipulate it to your will consciously. To shape and mould it and control it, that is skill and _those_ are the components that make a wizard or witch great."

"However," his tone darkened. "If you do not pay attention or take advantage of the centuries of knowledge gathered by your predecessors you will shame only yourselves. The years ahead will not be easy," he warned. "You must be dedicated and disciplined if you are going to reach your full potential. Whether that potential is to be great depends on you."

The atmosphere in the room had changed to a new kind of tension. The first years were so quiet that Holly could swear she could hear their hearts beating.

Holly wasn't sure what she had actually been expecting from Magical Theory, but it definitely hadn't been this.

"Welcome all to Magical Theory, I am certain many of you are expecting this class to be a class that just involves discussions about different concepts of magic, and while there will certainly be many debates in the days to come, there will be a practical element to this class," he finally greeted.

"It is my job to ensure you have a full understanding of the components to successfully cast spells and use magic, while also forming the foundation of spell creation you will later need should you meet the passing criteria."

"I will not only be teaching you the theory of magic but also the techniques used to control magic and successfully cast spells but also to help you hone your skills so you too can be counted amongst the greatest witches and wizards of the Empire."

"We will touch on subjects such as Arithmancy and Ancient Runes which will give you a basic understanding before those subjects become available to you as electives in your third year should you show an interest and a knack for it. I will happily recommend any student for those courses should you prove to have the skills and are willing to work hard. Now, would you all turn to chapter one of your text books and we will begin."

* * *

Magic was more complicated than simply waving a wand and saying a word.

There was structure, formula, knowledge, intent, will, visualisation and of course magic.

Magic was instinctive, it came to her call, but directing where it went after took more than just pointing her wand. Especially if she wanted to do more than blowing things up. Which in turn proved Professor Doge's point even more to her, she needed the knowledge of the spells to do more than blow things up.

She had quickly learnt that early on with her lessons with Riddle, but as the Slytherin first years walked out of Magical Theory, she couldn't help but wonder how many of her classmates had realised that. Had they who had grown up surrounded by magic rather than fearing it, understood the principles that their Professor had been trying to ingrain into them or had they taken for granted the ability to be able to wield magic and expected it to come naturally to them.

From the mutterings and groaning of a few them, she couldn't help but think that some of them had, in fact, thought that.

 _Willingness to use magic is not the same as the ability to use it._

"Well, that was more interesting than I thought it was going to be," Daphne stated as they once again walked side by side.

"Not disappointed then?"

"Not at all, Professor Doge is remarkable. His latest work was only published a month ago, which was a rather fascinating piece about Lithomancy."

"Lithomancy?"

"Crystal magic. Crystals can be used to a small degree as a focus just like a wand, but Professor Doge's study has proven you can actually store magic in a crystal to use at a later date, you just need to activate it."

"I can see why that would be useful."

"Not to mention profitable," a voice added from behind.

Holly turned to see Zabini and Nott walking behind them. She hadn't spoken to either of them before and knew very little about them other than their names. Other than speaking to each other and Pucey at breakfast she hadn't seen either interact with anyone.

Daphne laughed, "Trust you to think of profit. But you are right it would be a profitable venture, provided you are capable of doing it. Lithomancy delectate work from what I have read, push too much magic in it too quickly, and it shatters."

"Which is why they haven't become popular to use instead of wands," Zabini answered, before turning to look at her, "We haven't been introduced, Blaise Zabini." The dark haired wizard with the even darker eyes certainly seemed to have a presence to him.

His lips turned ever so slightly into a smile, "and my friend is Theodore Nott."

"Holly Black, though I am sure you already knew that."

"It does not hurt to be polite," he nodded in agreement a small smile crossing his lips.

"We have Transfiguration next," Daphne said, as they followed behind their other chaperone of the day.

"Are you looking forward to Transfiguration?" Holly asked.

"The idea is quite fascinating really, changing something into something else, but from my understanding, it is also extremely changeling," Daphne answered.

"Not to mention that Professor McGonagall is extremely strict, or at least that's what the older years have claimed," Zabini added.

Transfiguration was indeed challenging.

Sitting in groups of four, Zabini and Nott joined them on a table towards the middle of the classroom.

The door shut precisely when the bell rang to signal the beginning to the class. Professor McGonagall was standing at the front of the room, watching them quietly.

Professor McGonagall was strict and intelligent and knew how to capture the class's attention. Turning her desk into a pig and back again resulting in one or two gasps of awe and eagerness in her fellow classmates.

Holly's mind raced with the endless possibilities that Transfiguration offered to her and couldn't wait to get started.

"Welcome to Transfiguration," Professor McGonagall welcomed though her tone was anything but welcoming, "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. I demand that all of you work hard and apply yourself to it. There will be no fooling around in this class, and if you do so you will leave this class, and you will _not_ come back. You have all been warned."

They listened intently as Professor McGonagall started with the basic theory components of Transformation, which added an extra element to the formula of Knowledge, Will, Intent, Visualisation, and Magic that Professor Doge had mentioned.

She then proceeded to spend the rest of the lesson teaching them to turn matchsticks into needles. It was a far cry from turning furniture into animals something they all quickly learned was a far off achievement. They struggled enough with the matchstick.

Holly was aware of the casting of her classmates but tuned them out as she focused on her own matchstick that seemed to be lying on her desk almost mockingly.

She had already successfully cast spells, but they had been more Charms inclined than changing something into something else.

A matchstick and a needle were of a similar size and bodyweight which matched the first part of the Transfiguration formula.

Knowledge was the second part of the formula; Professor McGonagall had given them the incantation to use and had them practice it several times along with the correct wand movement.

Will, Intent, Visualisation and Magic were the final parts.

The magic answered her summons with the casting of the spell and correct wand movement, she could feel and almost gentle vibration running along her arm as she cast the spell.

She had to visualise the needle firmly in her mind as she cast the spell, she had to intend for her magic to change the matchstick into a needle and then she had to _will_ it to happen.

But in truth one also had to understand the difference between intent and will. Something Holly wasn't sure everyone did if the failed attempts and sighs of frustration were anything to go by.

The intent was the objective, the aim. The needle was the goal. Will was the desire to affect that change. Holly needed to visualise the needle in her mind as she cast the spell and _willed_ the magic to life and transform the matchstick into a needle.

Breaking it down it seemed natural, except every time she went to cast the spell her mind lazily argued what was the point of a needle, what did it have to offer her that would be useful or practical in any way.

It was frustrating.

Riddle had warned that magic was about will and visualisation, but he had never really touched on the subject of what you needed to do if your mind refused to cooperate.

Professor McGonagall was quick to point out that the castor had to visualise and will for the change to happen, but clearly that was what she was struggling with the most.

The caster needed the desire to affect the change, believe it was possible, and then using magic force the object to bend to their will and perception of reality. If she couldn't keep the image in her mind then how was she ever going to change anything into well...anything?

"I can actually feel you resisting. You need to stop over thinking," Daphne said as she worked on her own needle.

"Isn't that we are supposed to be doing, though. Visualising the image in our mind and willing it to happen?" Holly asked, looking at the girl who it seemed was having some moderate success with her matchstick by changing it at least silver.

"Yes, but just visualise the needle, don't over think the needle. You just need to picture it in your mind, cast the spell at the same time and will the transformation to happen."

"How can I be over thinking about a needle?"

"Do you just see a needle in your mind?" Zabini asked, focusing his attention on his own matchstick and half listening to her and Daphne.

"No, I think of a needle, and then I believe that a matchstick is more practical as it can be used to light a fire which is a source of heat as well as a way to cook food," Holly said.

"And that is you over thinking. We aren't analysing the uses of a needle or a matchstick. We are just holding the image of a needle in our mind. You may want the magic to work, _but_ you are holding yourself back because you are over thinking. Does it really matter which is more practical?"

Holly paused, she wanted the magic to work, and she knew she was capable of making the magic work. She had proof of that with the spells Riddle had taught her that she had successfully cast. But was it now not working because like they said she was over thinking a needle. Was she instead of feeling like a witch still thinking about the practical uses of an object that would have been crucial to survival in the Warren. A needle would have only been useful to a few.

"Try again Holly," Daphne urged.

She did. For the rest of the lesson, she practised until she was certain she would be able to perform the wand movement in her sleep.

* * *

It was with a sigh of relief that Holly left the Transfiguration classroom when the bell rang. She couldn't help but feel frustrated with her own poor performance.

"It was only our first lesson," Daphne said as they walked into the Great Hall for lunch.

Holly wasn't sure whether she was attempting to be reassuring or putting it in perspective for her. If she was honest, it didn't exactly sound reassuring.

"I know," she replied as they sat down at the Slytherin table. Already she could see other students helping themselves to the food.

"And you weren't the only one, all of the class have the task for homework," Daphne continued, as she helped herself to a sandwich.

While Daphne's comment was correct, the whole class had been set the task of turning a matchstick into a needle for homework as very few had been successful in class.

"I know," Holly answered as she added fruit to her plate.

"Good, so you can stop the self-pity, I do hate people who wallow."

Holly laughed, "How foolish of me to forget your needs must be met at all times."

Daphne smirked ever so slightly, "That's the spirit. Though on a more serious note," she lowered her voice ever so slightly so only Holly could hear. Though over the chattering noise in the Great Hall Holly was certain that wouldn't be a problem.

"You need to stop thinking muggle. We can light fires with a spell, we don't need a matchstick. In truth, neither a needle nor a matchstick is useful to us, they are simply objects."

"You don't seem offended by the idea that I am thinking muggle," Holly answered between a bite of her sandwich.

"I don't give them a thought. You have lived your whole life thinking you are one; it will take time to rethink how you see the world. Like cutting off your right hand and being told to use your wand in your left. Instinctively you are going to try and use the hand that is no longer there."

Daphne continued "While I may give you the time and benefit to adjust Holly because I feel you are interesting and have potential others won't. You need to learn quickly."

It was another warning.

She could hear it as clear as day.

She couldn't help but wonder why Daphne was investing the time to be friends with her or give her warnings. On a surface level, she had nothing she could offer. Nothing that would gain Daphne the advantage that being friends with someone like Parkinson would, but then she couldn't say she was understood why people were interested in her. Even Malfoy had attempted to talk to her before Magical Theory and had looked somewhat disappointed that he was unable to join them at the table.

 _Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear._

"McGonagall is evil, not only do we have to practise turning a matchstick into a needle, but we have to write about each step of the Transfiguration formula and which step we had the most trouble on," Malfoy declared as he took a seat next to her. "And it's only our first day!"

"I think we need to get used to it, I have a feeling it will only get worse," Daphne stated.

"We need to be on top of our game to reach the high ranks of the League table. Of course, if you don't feel up to it Draco, I am certain the Professors will go easy on you," Zabini added with a soft laugh.

"Don't be absurd, a Malfoy is always at the top of his game," Malfoy sniffed.

"Of course we won't have a problem our parents ensured we had the best tutors we could have before coming to Hogwarts," Parkinson sneered, "Others aren't so lucky."

Holly could see the pointed look Parkinson threw her way but chose to ignore it. There was nothing she could say, and it wasn't a lie. She hadn't had the tutors to teach her before Hogwarts, other than the nine weeks with Riddle she hadn't had any prior magical training.

"And yet those teachers couldn't help you in Transfiguration," Daphne murmured.

Inwardly Holly smiled, she hadn't said it nastily, only said it as a matter of fact, but it threw Parkinson's previous comment back in her face causing the girl to open her mouth wide in surprise.

 _Parkinson is used to getting her own way, she isn't used to someone calling her out on her comments._

It was a quick assumption, but one Holly was certain she was right about. Parkinson was going to be one of the people Daphne had subtly warned her about. Her comments at breakfast and now were clearly showing she had taken a dislike to her, and Holly could only assume it was because of her connection with the muggle world.

"I wasn't the only one. From what I could see Black was equally unsuccessful," Parkinson snapped back.

Turning everyone's attention back to her.

 _Doesn't like the idea that someone is better than her, will happily point out others flaws but hates her own being pointed out. Prefers to be the centre of attention if it's proper attention and will quickly throw someone else under the axe for amusement so long as it isn't her._

Holly shrugged, "I didn't see the need for a needle."

It wasn't saying she was incapable of performing the spell just that she had no desire for a needle and that was why it hadn't worked.

Daphne gave her a small reassuring smile before continuing to eat the rest of her lunch. No one else said anything as they ate in silence.

* * *

Charms was by far more pleasant than Transfiguration had been, at least in Holly's opinion.

After lunch, they followed behind a prefect towards their Charms classroom and had settled down in groups of three. This class they shared with the Hufflepuff first years.

Taking a seat next to Daphne and Zabini, Holly couldn't help but see that Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall were exact opposites. Where Professor McGonagall had been stern Professor Flitwick was small and chipper he began calling the register as he stood on a pile of books. There were no warnings of dangerous magic and the Professor discussed in some detail about the theory of magic and spell casting.

Holly found that the lessons Riddle had given her helped considerably with Charms.

 _Will_ and _Visualization_ were key elements along with correct wand movements and spell pronunciation.

They spent the lesson learning and perfecting the 'Repairing Charm', using various broken objects that Flitwick seemed to keep solely for the purpose of the lesson.

In his words "Accidents do happen, so it is essential to know how to mend our errors,"

Certain materials were easier than others Holly found, and even though she had successfully repaired a broken glass jar cracks had still been visible, where both Daphne and Zabini had managed to fix theirs without any cracks at all.

Herbology was their last lesson of the day.

They traipsed down the steps of the entrance hall where they were met by a dumpy little witch with rosy cheeks. Holly enjoyed the fact that she was outside in the fresh air as Professor Sprout led them down to the Greenhouses.

Before allowing them to enter she briefly explained the safety precautions they would need to follow before entering the Greenhouse and leaving.

Professor Sprout ushered them into Greenhouse 1 where she set them to examine three different samples of the same plant. The difference being the soil they were growing in. She further explained then that the soil properties and growing conditions impacted the plant's growth, magical properties and parts.

Holly was uncertain whether she would ever develop a love for the subject, but she couldn't deny that it was interesting, and how the care for the plants that they were learning now would have an impact in other disciplines such as Potions.

Holly was sure she would never look at a plant in the same way again.

* * *

It was far more subdued dirtier group of first years that entered the Slytherin common room after Herbology. The excitement and energy that had driven them through the day had slowly dwindled into a tiredness that came with a full day of learning and concentration.

While the students whose parents had been able to afford private tutors were used to a structured day of learning, Hogwarts was vastly different. Holly was certain it would take them a few days to settle into the pace of the school and the expectations set on them.

Using the free period, they had before dinner they cleaned up and set about starting their homework.

She was more than grateful though for the free time they had before dinner, though it was more time for them to study than anything else.

Holly, Daphne, Zabini and Nott gathered around one of the study tables to start on the homework they had already been assigned. The others slowly joined them after they finished cleaning up.

Holly opted to start her Magical Theory homework first preferring to leave Transfiguration to last.

As they worked, the conversation rose between them, more relaxed within the Slytherin Common Room they began asking questions about their homes and families. Like Holly had previously presumed while it was clear that most of them knew each other or of each other, there had been a formality between them that hadn't allowed them to become more than acquaintances.

"So you grew up in the Warren?" Malfoy asked.

Holly looked up in surprise meeting his grey eyes with her own. He was studying her with interest as he waited for her to answer. She knew the questions would come eventually, but even though she had been expecting it, she was still caught by surprise when it was finally voiced.

All of the faces turned toward Holly. She finished the sentence she was writing, conscious of their attention.

"For two years," she answered.

"Who did you live with?"

"I was on my own," she said with a shrug.

"That's awful!" Davis exclaimed.

Holly looked at the girl she hadn't spoken to her before despite that they shared a dorm together.

"I survived." She shrugged.

"How? Were you a thief?" Parkinson sneered.

Holly could see the others tensed at the question.

"I didn't work for the Underworld if that is what you are asking. Not everyone who lives in the Warren does," she answered with a small laugh.

The others seemed to relax a little. Parkinson glanced around at them and then scowled.

"But you stole things, didn't you?"

Holly didn't see the point of denying it; they would only assume she was lying if she did. She wouldn't tell them the extent of her thievery.

"Yes, the food was hard to come by so I stole food and money," she admitted, meeting Parkinson's stare with her own defiant one. "But only when I was starving."

Parkinson's eyes brightened in triumph, "So you are a thief."

"Leave it alone Pansy, she was living on her own and hungry, I am sure you would steal, too, if you had nothing to eat," Daphne snapped.

Holly noted the others turned to frown at Parkinson, but she tossed her head dismissively, then leant toward Holly and fixed her with a cold stare.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" She challenged.

Holly returned Parkinson's stare and felt her anger growing. She could see the whole group had tensed at the question, enough so that you could almost cut it with a knife.

"Pansy!" Malfoy warned.

She smirked ever so slightly before answering as sweetly as she was possibly able to make her voice sound, ensuring that a warning was there without actually wording a threat of any kind.

"Ms Skeeter had a full disclosure to my past Parkinson; I know she wrote in detail that I spent time in the Pit and survived. And I am sure you are aware of what happens in the Pit."

Silence fell over them for several minutes, and Holly had no intention of breaking it. She had no intention of discussing her life any further. Instead, she was content in ignoring Parkinson and the others as much as she possibly could she continued writing her essay as if the entire thing hadn't happened.

She had expected the curiosity from everyone. She was a novelty, an outsider. She had been raised, _technically,_ alongside the people that many of them were raised to believe as their inferiors. They would be curious because the idea of her was as strange as the fact it had actually happened. Her discovery was under unusual circumstances, the fact she had been a guest of the headmaster for the last nine weeks added to her unique situation.

* * *

After dinner, Holly retreated to the dormitory rather than staying in the Common Room with the other first years. Unused to being with other people all day she desperately wanted to take a time out and relish in a few moments of solitude.

That and it was probably best if she put distance between Parkinson and herself.

The girl irritated her. Reminding Holly all too well as to why she avoided groups of children in the Warren. Everyone wanted to be the leader of the pack, and some did it by uniting others against one individual.

She knew Parkinson would see her retreat as a victory for her, but Holly didn't care. Not enough to do something about it.

Holly would leave the girl alone so long as Parkinson left her alone.


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, PM, added to favourites and alerts this story. Feel free to PM if you do have any questions, provided I can answer without giving too much away of the story and plot I will do my best to do so. Thank you all for your continued support for this story.

* * *

XX

* * *

Chapter 11 - **The Headmaster**

The next morning Holly woke early to find Daphne already up and dressed. A glance towards the others told her they were still fast asleep.

"Morning," she half mumbled.

"Good morning," Daphne grinned, "Do you fancy trying to make our way to breakfast on our own?"

"Sure," Holly replied, "just give me a moment to get ready."

Holly washed and dressed quickly before packing her bag for the morning ahead. Together they left the Common Room and made their way in the direction of the Great Hall, neither of them in any great rush.

As they walked, they talked, mostly about trivial things. Holly learnt that Daphne's favourite colour was blue and that she had an interest in Charms and Potions and of course duelling. Daphne had come to Hogwarts already with an extensive knowledge of the most famous and influential people and families in the Empire, and a full background in Wizarding Law and Pureblood Etiquette. Down to both the private tutors, her parents had arranged for her and growing up as part of an influential House within Britain's social elite. Something that the Black family were very much at the heart of.

The idea didn't sit well with Holly, almost as if the expectation was there for her to join such things without any warning or prior knowledge.

Perhaps the only thing she could hope for was the Black family to lay no claim or acknowledgement of her, and she could be as far away from the frivolous day to day activities that had seemed to dictate Daphne's childhood.

Though she was careful not to voice her opinion out loud. It was one thing for her to not understand the Etiquette that dominated the Wizardkind's lives in the games they played with each other, but she had a feeling that insulting it would be another story altogether.

In turn, Holly shared little bits of information about herself. Avoiding serious topics such as the Pit and Warren she delved a bit further into some of the subjects she had learned from Riddle and some areas of magic she was interested in discovering more about. It wasn't the most riveting, but it was something about herself she was willing to share with.

Perhaps Daphne realised it herself by the smile she shared with her as they sat down at the Slytherin table for breakfast.

Trust wasn't given it was earned. Over time. Something that Holly realised Daphne understood equally. And while part of her rebelled at the possibility a small part of her, that had been lonely in the Warren, was relieved that she had someone she could talk to even if neither of them fully trusted the other.

* * *

History of Magic was their first lesson of the day. Located in a small classroom on the fourth floor, Holly was grateful at the very least that they didn't share this particular lesson with any of the other houses. The room was compact enough with just the Slytherin first years, she couldn't imagine how closed in it would have felt with another house sharing it with them.

Professor Quirrell was an odd man, dressed in purple robes and of a somewhat nervous disposition. He never looked any of them in the eye and tended to wander mid-speech with an entirely different thought.

And yet there was one thing clear to see, Professor Quirrell was a fanatic and one that seemed to not only firmly believe in the Empire and the Greater Good but also worshipped the ground the Headmaster walked on.

He had a strange philosophy regarding the necessity of dark witches and wizards and war and violence for the progress of wizarding culture. It grated on every last nerve Holly had, and it took every inch of her self-control not to react in a negative way, or give any indicator that she disagreed. She could feel the eyes of a few of her housemates watching her closely as Quirrell reeled on about the mercy that the Emperor had shown the muggles and it was not ' _ours or their'_ place to question his will.

He continued reminiscing about the recent monumental moment of change in British Wizarding History, the fall of Great Britain and successful campaign of the Emperor and integration into the Empire. Holly couldn't help but get the impression from the way _he_ spun the facts that the success of the campaign and overall conquest was really down to the Headmaster and _not_ the Emperor Grindelwald. From the mutterings of other students which could only be interpreted as annoyance and anger, she wasn't the only one to form that opinion either.

Holly was more than grateful when the bell rang indicating the lesson was over, not merely for the fact that the next lesson was one she had been looking forward to, but also for the fact that she wanted to be as far away from Quirrell as possible, who despite being nervous gave her the creeps.

"Well that was interesting," Daphne muttered as they made their way through the maze of corridors to their next lesson.

"Interesting? I don't think I actually learnt anything the way he jumped from topic to topic," Holly agreed.

"I figured I was the only one having trouble with that," Zabini added.

"No, Zabini, you weren't the only one," Holly said.

"You really must call me Blaise, Holly," Zabini said with a smile. It was the kind of smile that Holly knew would be considered dangerous in a few years time. One that would be regarded as both charming and devilish at the same time.

"I sort of wish they had kept the old professor. I'm sure being taught by a ghost would have been far more entertaining and engaging than being taught by Quirrell," Daphne said, "Not to mention Quirrell has signed his own death warrant with talk like that."

Blaise hummed in agreement, "it is one thing to think them, but voice them, not the mention in front of mainlanders as well."

His voice had dropped to a whisper by the end, ensuring that no one outside her, Daphne and Nott would be able to hear. Not that Nott appeared to be paying much attention to anything.

"At least we have Evocation next. I wonder what the Headmaster will be like, I know the older years said he would be hard going, but challenging isn't always a bad thing," he continued, adding a more cheerful note to his voice as he spoke louder.

"I suppose there is only one way to find out," Holly answered. She knew exactly what Riddle was going to be like, but that still did not lessen the excitement that was bubbling inside of her.

* * *

Evocation was easily the most anticipated class, for two particular reasons from what Holly could understand. The first being it offered a unique experience that few could lay claim to outside Hogwarts walls, and the reason Holly suspected that many mainlanders chose to send their children to Hogwarts, as it was taught by the Headmaster. It seemed it was unusual for any Headmaster to teach a class, but Riddle had made it his personal agenda to oversee Evocation. But then, from what the older years had said, Evocation did seem to be his own project. A class that he had created and one he wished to continue to oversee. From her own personal experience, she knew that Riddle would not give up control of anything but least of all something he considered his. Riddle had a passion for magic as a collective and a desire to understand all its secrets. Evocation was his way of being able to pass that on that knowledge without restricting himself in any way, to those he considered worthy.

The second, as she quickly came to realise _Evocation_ , was a broad term used to describe more than one branch of magic. A relatively new class it replaced the old Defence Against the Dark Arts and offered students the ability to learn magic as a collective to defend themselves. It ranged from _Offensive Magic, Defensive Magic, the Dark Arts_ , _Battle Magic and Duelling_ and more than she had even given thought to _._ From the variety of textbooks required for the subject, it didn't teach one particular branch but rather incorporated them all together. Since the class's introduction, it was evident that it worked wonders on improving the skills of wizards and witches. Allowing them to explore magics that had once been considered too dangerous or illegal for people to use and given them a better understanding and respect for magic in a safe environment. Also ensuring that the arts that had been forgotten by all but a few were still remembered. Riddle had ensured there were generations of well-trained wizards and witches that would benefit the Empire and had made Hogwarts an elite school that everyone wanted to attend.

The first year Gryffindors had arrived early and chosen seats at the very front of the class, much to the disappointment of her housemates. Though as Riddle was already seated behind his desk when they arrived, they were unable to grumble too loudly, in fact, his presence caused an instant hush to fall upon her fellow first years as they entered the room nervously. Holly felt her own nerves ease at the sight of him rather than add to them, but then she had an unfair advantage in that she had experienced some familiarity with being his student. Holly missed the routine that they had fallen into while she had been staying in his manor, and while she had come to accept being able to wield magic, there was still so much she didn't know. A familiar face was a comfort she was willing to allow herself to indulge in.

As if drawn by her thoughts he looked at her, their eyes meeting for the briefest of seconds before he gave her the barest of nods before he looked back down at the book in front of him.

A nod that didn't escape Daphne's notice as they chose a seat in the middle of the classroom.

"He nodded to you," she whispered as she took the seat next to her.

"It was just a nod," Holly answered as she placed her parchment and ink onto the table.

"It was more than just a nod, it was an acknowledgement. Do you know what people would be willing to do just to gain recognition from him?"

She didn't get the chance to answer as Riddle chose that moment to stand and walk around his desk to the front of the classroom.

"Who wants to die?"

Holly blinked in surprise. That was an opening line if she had ever heard one and by the stunned silence of the class, she would hazard a guess that they hadn't expected for him to start that way either. She wasn't sure where Riddle was going, but with four small words, he had captured the room's attention.

"I presume the answer for this class would be, no one," he smiled at them, "In future though be aware that when I ask a question, I do expect an answer."

His eyes watched the room carefully, ensuring he had their attention before continuing.

"Many things in this world will seek to harm you, man or beast. Some of you may wonder why that is," he continued, "The answer can be as simple or as complicated as the situation you find yourself in. Survival, orders, greed, anger, envy or even by accident. The list goes on. You need to ensure you have the skills and knowledge to encounter all of those possibilities and more."

He paced as he continued his speech, walking down the aisle between the desks to the back and then back down to the front again.

"It is my job to ensure you are given the tools you need to enable you to defend yourself against the trials life throws at you," he glanced around at them, assessing, observing and filing away every detail, "whether I succeed at all will depend on you," he continued.

"I have a strict structure to my lessons, as I have no doubt you have already heard about. I do not tolerate laziness or slacking both of which will be punished appropriately," his eyes were hard and cold as they swept across the classroom, almost as if Riddle was already assessing those he believed would be the culprits of such behaviour.

"I expect hard work and effort put into each lesson and every assignment. The rewards you reap will speak for themselves and are well worth the effort and hard work you choose to give. After all, you reap what you sow."

He leant against his desk as he looked back at them, arms crossed and his face smooth of any emotion.

"Within Evocation, you will study many aspects of magic, both offensive and defensive. We will explore both theory and practical, we will look at strategy as well as applying that approach in reality. Yes you will learn to defend yourself against dark creatures, and spells that intend harm, but you will also be casting those spells as well," he paused, watching them carefully, looking for signs of weakness like a bird of prey would for food.

Holly couldn't say whether he found any.

"As they often say the best defence is offence," he continued, "By the end of the first term you will all be participating in weekly duels with each other. You will either be winning or lose those contests. Both your successes and your failures will be taken into account in how you are ranked within your House and your year group, both of which will ultimately work towards your ranking on the School League. As I am sure, you are all aware your rankings inevitably affect your future opportunities for when you leave Hogwarts, not just in jobs but also in the prospect of any future training programmes or apprenticeships that could be offered to you."

"Those of you who are not up to achieving high ranks will move to another class by your third year and will not continue under my tutelage. Those who are incapable of committing to the work Hogwarts asks of you will no longer have a place at this school."

The class seemed frozen in place; nobody liked the idea of losing their place in his class let alone the school. Already she could feel the sheer determination radiate from those around her. Nobody would want to lose their duels.

"Now then, let us begin with the lessons."

"Who can tell me the incantation of the Shield Charm?"

Several hands shot up eagerly the second he had finished speaking. One girl with bushy brown hair was hovering off her seat to make herself appear taller and more noticeable.

Riddle looked almost amused as he glanced around the classroom, before ignoring all those with their hands raised as he moved around the classroom instead choosing to stop by a Gryffindor boy with a mop of sandy coloured hair.

"Mr..."

"Seamus Finnigan," the boy squeaked as he paled.

"I'm waiting Finnigan," Riddle said impatiently looking down at the boy, acting every inch the intimidating figure that he was.

"I don't know sir," Finnigan answered, not looking up past the table.

"How disappointing," Riddle stated, his voice cutting like steel, he looked up at the boy and looked around the rest of the classroom, "I take it by the lack of hands in the air that only several of you took the time to read their textbooks before the class. I can see that I will have a small group of students in my class come your third year."

No one dared to utter a sound.

"Pathetic," he sneered at them before continuing, "Have you already forgotten that I do not tolerate anything but a hundred percent effort. Shall I ask the question again in hopes of getting a better response?"

He didn't give them a chance to respond or even ask the question again, he pointed to the girl hovering off her seat as he walked back down to the front of the room.

"You."

"Hermione Doge, sir," the girl answered sitting up a little straighter. Compared to Finnigan she didn't appear to look nervous having Riddle's attention on her.

The class whispered in surprise though they quickly fell silent at the sharp look Riddle through at them.

"Ward?"

"Yes Sir," Doge replied, her tone void of emotion.

He nodded once, "I trust Doge, that you won't be as disappointing as your hand was raised."

"No Sir."

Riddle laughed, "Confident, well Doge, impress me."

"The incantation is _Protego_."

"Continue."

"The Shield Charm creates a magical barrier to deflect physical entities and spells to protect a particular person or area. Out of the Shield Charm family, this particular incantation is only considered to deflect minor to moderate curses and hexes," Doge answered confidently.

"Correct five points to Gryffindor," Riddle said. The girl smiled ever so slightly, looking incredibly pleased with herself for a few seconds before a mask of indifference fell across her face.

"The Shield Charm is a vital part of a witch or wizard's arsenal. Without the ability to shield themselves they are vulnerable to harm on all fronts. The strength of the shield will vary from wizard to wizard," Riddle continued, "It is a moderately difficult spell to master but to ensure I have your full attention, and _you all put the effort in_ I am giving you a two-week deadline to master it."

Forgetting themselves some students groaned loudly.

Riddle smirked at the, a glint dancing in his eyes promised pain and suffering. "I assure you, you will have plenty of motivation to ensure you master the spell. If you do not by the end of the two weeks, then I suggest you all should become accustomed to the idea of being in pain. For I assure you pain will become a familiar friend as we continue with the lessons."

His smirk widened as he glanced around at them, Holly could see some nervous faces of her classmates.

"Now I do believe it is time to get practical. Black to the front" Riddle barked.

Inwardly Holly groaned, of course, he would pick her out. Silently she stood and walked towards the front of the classroom, aware of the eyes following her closely.

"Each of you will attempt to cast the shield three times today, so don't think any of you have escaped," Riddle warned them all, "I will be casting a mild Stinging Hex at you to ensure you are motivated enough to put the effort in."

She could see concern across some faces out of the corner of her eye.

Riddle turned to face her, "Black the incantation is _Protego,_ you will need to emphasise the 'tay' when casting. The wand movement is an upward flick. Try them both together now."

 _"Protego,"_ she said, flicking her wand upwards. Nothing appeared to have happened.

"The shield is usually invisible; you only know it is there when an oncoming spell or object makes contact with it. Due to this, it is paramount that you master it to perfection. There would be no warning if not cast correctly until injured or killed. Again Black."

Holly practised the incantation and wand movement several times, aware of Riddle's watchful gaze and the scrutiny of her classmates. Some she had no doubt would want her to fail.

"Enough. Now for the real go. In a real duel or battle, you would need to be able to cast without warning and quicker than any opponent you may face. I know none of you are faster at casting spells than I am. For the purpose of the lesson I want you to cast the Shield Charm first. A few moments later I will cast the Stinging Hex. If you have successfully cast the charm, we will see a white light rebound off your shield," Riddle paused before continuing, "I have shielded your classmates to ensure that the hex does not ricochet off in their direction."

She met his eyes with her own; she could see the warning look he was giving her, the message clear to see. _Do not disappoint me._

Her stomach knotted in anticipation. She wasn't afraid of pain, but the idea of showing herself up did not sit well with her, especially so publically and as the first one in the group to give it a go.

"Cast the spell."

 _"Protego!"_ Holly shouted as she flicked her wand upwards.

Riddle waited a few seconds before casting his own spell, the incantation lost to her as a white light shot in her direction. For a brief second her eyes followed the path the spell was heading, the sound of her heart beating echoed in her ears, she fought the urge to move out of the way, forcing herself to trust that she had cast the spell correctly.

The Stinging Hex met no barrier and hit her square on the left shoulder. She couldn't stop the hiss of pain. The flesh on her shoulder tightened and spasmed. It was certainly not the worst she had ever felt before, well aware that Riddle had cast a far more painful spell on her during the summer, but it was uncomfortable.

The laugh of a few students didn't help. She hadn't expected to cast the Charm successfully the first time, but that didn't ease the embarrassment she felt over failing. The disappointment in Riddle's eyes didn't help anything either.

"Again!" Riddle barked at her.

She cast the spell again and waited for Riddle to make his move.

She didn't have to wait long.

The Hex hit her on her left hand.

Visible to see compared to her shoulder she could see angry red welts cover her hand almost instantly. That one had hurt more than her shoulder.

"I am disappointed Black, considering you have managed to cast a Shield Charm before," he muttered at her.

No one else heard him; those words had been for her and her alone. She could see the challenge in his eyes, he was baiting her.

She could feel her anger rising. She met Riddle's gaze with her own, ensuring she sent her own message in that one look, _challenge accepted._

Riddle was right, she had successfully cast a Shield Charm before, of course, that hadn't been deliberate, and it had been a life and death situation. The Stinging Hex was hardly life or death.

 _Breathe Holly, just breathe. Focus, intent, will and visualisation are some of the key elements in casting charms. Surely it will be no different here._

"Again."

She nodded once to herself, closed her eyes and took a breath. She could do this, _she had to do this._

Opening her eyes, she cast the spell, _"Protego!"_ she flicked her wand upwards, holding firmly in her mind the visual of a white light engulfing her. The magic hummed and stirred inside her, she pulled at it with imaginary hands, willing it to her, at first it trickled until it poured into existence allowing her to shape it and moulded it with the incantation, bringing it to life with the wand movement and holding it in place.

She couldn't say exactly what she had done differently from her last two attempts other than she could actually _see_ the shield in her mind's eye. The hairs on her arms stood to attention, and she could almost feel her whole body vibrating.

She had cast the spell.

 _She knew she had._

Riddle cast the stinging hex, more aware of the magic she could see it turn and swirl in a straight line towards her, much like an arrow. In a blink of an eye that felt like a lifetime, but in reality was mere seconds, the Stinging Hex in a blinding flash of light made contact with her shield before spinning off to the left, hitting the blackboard with a thud.

Stunned silence followed.

 _Third time is the charm._

Riddle smirked ever so slightly.

"Well done Black on successfully casting a Shield Charm, five points to Slytherin. The next two weeks will determine whether it is sheer dumb luck or actual talent," Riddle stated, "return to your seat. Finnigan, you're next."

Holly almost sighed with relief, as she returned to her seat, ignoring the looks the other students threw her way. It may have taken her three attempts, but she had succeeded, at least once. Now all she needed to do was ensure it wasn't just sheer dumb luck but actual ability to cast the spell.

She had a feeling she was going to need the Shield Charm in her arsenal and not just because of Riddle's lessons.

Turning her attention back to the lesson and the other students she watched as Riddle randomly called the students up one by one to have a go at facing his Stinging Hex. She didn't laugh at the others as some cried out, but then nor did anyone else.

Pucey had said Evocation was going to be challenging, Holly could see now even more so that the statement was correct.

* * *

Exiting the classroom after the bell rang had resulted in an explosion of chatter from the surrounding first years.

"Mental he is, absolutely mental," a red-headed boy, who she was sure was Weasley something, muttered to his friends as they passed her.

"Surely he can't get away causing physical harm to his students?" A teary-eyed blonde girl whispered to her friend.

"You have to admit, compared to the other lessons we've had so far it was different, exciting even," Daphne said as they walked down towards the Great Hall for lunch.

"We were warned, both by the older years and the Headmaster that he wouldn't go easy on us," Holly commented, shifting her bag onto her right shoulder, so it stopped rubbing on the left.

"Yes, I know, but a Shield Charm, most adults have trouble casting that."

"Maybe that's the problem, considering how important a spell it is to be able to cast, better to start young. Though the two-week deadline is a bit extreme," Blaise winced, his left cheek swollen and puffy where one Stinging Hex had left its mark.

"He's not going to back down from that, our lack of response irritated him, so he's punishing us. Throwing Stinging Hex's at us punishes us appropriately and ensures we are plenty motivated to learn it quickly," Holly answered.

"I don't think my poor face can take it," Blaise sighed, with a shake of his head.

Holly winced, "It does look painful. Surely we can get something to put on the welts."

"Maybe ask one of the older years first, or I suppose we could go to the Hospital Wing, though I'm sure over the next two weeks we are going to need more of whatever will help," Daphne suggested.

"Yes well we will just have to ensure we are all as successful as Holly in casting a Shield Charm," Blaise said throwing her a pointed look.

"It was sheer dumb luck," Holly muttered, "and I wasn't the only one who managed to cast it either. That Doge girl did."

"Yes, that Doge girl," Blaise agreed.

"What is that suppose to mean?"

"I just wasn't aware Professor Doge had taken a Ward. It is surprising, and I don't think the Headmaster was aware either considering his surprised expression," he continued.

"Caught that too did you, he was quick to hide it," Daphne said.

"What does a Ward mean exactly?"

"It means that Doge is from the orphanage. Most are adopted long before they reach school age, though some aren't. To attend Hogwarts, they need a sponsor. Professor Doge is her sponsor, and as such, she takes his name while attending Hogwarts, or for as long as Professor Doge is happy for her to do so."

"So without a sponsor, those that hadn't been adopted wouldn't be able to attend Hogwarts," Holly frowned.

"Correct."

Holly didn't say anything. It didn't seem to be a particularly fair system, but then life wasn't fair. She was vaguely aware of the amused looks thrown their way and one of the older years asking how their Evocation lesson went. Why had Riddle been so surprised that Professor Doge had sponsored a student, was it not heard of them to do so?

"Do you want some Murtlap Essence for your hand, Black?"

"What is it?" She blinked in surprise.

"A solution that helps soothes painful cuts and abrasions and helps heal them. It will help with most of the minor injuries you will receive from Evocation, though sometimes it is best to get a second opinion and visit the Hospital Wing," Selwyn stated, "Professor Snape was aware you had Evocation today and had already prepared a batch for you all."

"Thanks," Holly muttered taking the small bottle. Using her napkin, she dabbed a few drops of the stuff onto her hand. It tingled ever so slightly, but she could almost feel the instant relief from the sting, and it was more comfortable to clench her hand into a fist than it had been.

"I recommend you stock up, or learn how to brew it quickly. You are all going to need it, even if you manage to cast a successful Shield Charm, some of them will only protect you from so much, and you aren't ready to learn the more powerful charms."

"I'm sure we will need it over the next two weeks while we learn the spell," Blaise said, already his cheek was less swollen and red.

"Two weeks," Rosier whistled, "Man you really must had irritated him."

"We will never master it in two weeks, it is completely unreasonable timeframe!" Malfoy exclaimed.

"Best get used to it, it's only going to get worse," Rosier laughed.

Selwyn threw the third year boy a look before turning to them, "Piece of advice, practice throwing a softball at each other, and block that. That way if you fail to cast the Charm correctly, no one is going to die."

They muttered their thanks, though Holly wouldn't say any of them sounded convinced that they would master the Charm before the two-week deadline.

* * *

That evening, the first years found themselves following Selwyn's advice, throwing a small ball no bigger than a fist at each other. It was soft enough that when it did hit them, it didn't hurt.

They gave each other the time needed to cast the spell before throwing the ball at their opponent. The activity drew more than a few laughs at each other, and not for the sheer lack of success at being able to cast the spell correctly but for the important fact that very few of them could actually aim.

Holly threw the ball at Bulstrode which hit her on the shoulder.

"How did you manage to cast the spell successfully Black?" Nott, call me Theo, asked.

Holly considered the question, "I was irritated with myself for not being successful in casting the spell."

 _Liar, you were irritated with Riddle, you rose to his bait and accepted his challenge,_ the voice argued. She ignored it.

"I pictured the shield forming around me in my mind, and willed the magic to life as I cast the spell. I don't know if I am explaining it right, but it worked." She continued.

"It does make sense. Emotions have always affected magic in some way. It is why a child's accidental magic is so wild and unpredictable. We don't understand emotions in quite the same way at that age, we just feel, and our magic acts on that, on fulfilling our wants and desires," Bulstrode agreed.

"Speak for yourself," Theo sniggered.

Bulstrode rolled her eyes.

"So you just pictured the shield in your mind as you cast the spell?" Daphne asked.

"Visualised, willed, and cast. I'm no expert, and I only cast it once successfully," she answered.

"Well that is one more than us," Daphne replied.

Bulstrode threw the ball at Daphne.

"Hey!"

A few of the others sniggered as Daphne exclaimed in surprise.

"You heard the Headmaster, we had to be on our toes and prepared to be quicker than any threat we might face," Bulstrode smiled.

"Yes well as we haven't successfully cast the charm once yet I don't think we will be having much luck being faster than our opponents," Daphne sniped back, as she threw the ball at Blaise who was still sniggering.

He blinked in surprise as it hit him on the head.

"Well your aim is improving," Holly said with a small smirk, "that is at least something."

The ball hit her on the arm. She threw Blaise a look who met it with a smirk and a ' _who me?'_ dancing in his eyes.

 _Well played._

"I don't think this is working," Malfoy muttered in annoyance.

No one could argue, it didn't appear to be working, but then none of them seemed determined in stopping the ball from hitting them. The threat of the Stinging Hex was more intimidating than a softball.

"When do we have Evocation again?" Holly asked.

"Friday," someone replied, though she couldn't tell who.

"So we have the rest of today and one other day to practice as much as possible, or we are going to become more accustomed to Stinging Hexes than a softball."

She could see the resolve cross their faces. They do not need to get it perfect, but they needed to all at least once be able to cast the Charm and avoid a Hex.

"Malfoy, I'm going to throw the ball at you."

He nodded once, before going through the motions of casting the spell. Holly allowed him a few moments before throwing the ball in his direction. It didn't make contact with Malfoy; though it didn't bounce back either. It made contact with something a few inches away from him before dropping to the floor.

"You did it, Draco!" Parkinson exclaimed. Malfoy smirked in a way that said he expected nothing less; he was a Malfoy after all. Nobody could argue it was a start. It had taken them multiple attempts, but at last, one of them had managed to cast it to a degree.

Holly could see the determination cross the other's faces with an intensity that almost burned. Malfoy threw the ball, and so they continued until eventually the Prefects had had enough of their game and forced them to stop. By that point, most of them had at least once cast the Charm, even if they had been unable to cast it correctly the second or third time after.

* * *

It wasn't until Thursday morning that Holly was able to slip away on her own. Having had Astronomy late the night before they had a free period Thursday morning, and everyone was inclined to take full advantage of it.

Holly saw it as an opportunity she wasn't willing to miss.

Up before the sun she quietly gathered her school things into her bag and slipped out of the dormitory, leaving her roommates sleeping peacefully behind their green velvet hangings.

The common room was almost empty except for a seventh-year who had fallen asleep in a chair with a book on his lap. He opened one eye as she passed him, then snorted and shut it again, not deigning to talk to a lowly first year.

Holly slipped out of the entrance, letting it slide shut behind her and turning invisible to those outside the Slytherin House. There were the telltale signs that she had come to learn and see over the course of the last few days, but unless you knew what to look for or that they were there at all, then the entrance remained unmarked.

She had come to the conclusion that Slytherins as a whole were an extremely paranoid bunch.

 _Among other things,_ she silently added.

As breakfast wouldn't start for another hour; Holly opted to attempt to retrace her steps as she had during her first night exploring.

A task which was considerably harder than she had assumed. In the light of day, the dungeons looked a lot different. And attempting to remember exactly how many lefts or rights she had taken when she had wondered around lost was a difficult task in itself.

Determined not to give up or be disheartened by her weak attempt, Holly used the opportunity to look for markings that would stand out in her mind as she mapped out the dungeons. She looked in the empty classrooms and cupboards again, feeling out which felt right to use. It was always a risky move to keep everything together, should it be discovered then you run the risk of losing all your supplies in one swoop. Splitting them ensured you had a backup plan, though it also increased the risk of discovery.

It was perhaps by mere chance that the moment she stopped trying to retrace her steps to find the strange markings that she actually found them. Almost as if protection was placed on them to prevent people trying to deliberately find them.

In the light of day, she was able to see more of her surroundings. Frowning she looked around, this area seemed to be disused as a whole, forgotten and lost. The disused room to the right of the archway was big enough to have once been a classroom and perhaps the perfect place to allow her to practice magic unobserved and store items. _Provided you could find it again._ On the left side, a little further down was a great big tapestry, decoratively portraying Hogwarts in the distance across the lake. Or at least she presumed it was Hogwarts.

Nothing indicated that it either two rooms had been opened in a while. _Though Riddle had found her on her first night, did that mean he was aware of the rooms here?_

 _No, he didn't see the archway, and it had gone when I looked back._

Did that then mean the arch could hide?

On top of the door, she noticed strange etchings in a variety of different shapes along the archway.

 _They have to mean something, but what?_

She studied them; they looked old, ancient even. Knowing she had a little time she sat down, reaching into her bag Holly pulled out ink and parchment and slowly began to scratch down what she could see.

Satisfied that she had copied them down to the best of her ability Holly put her things back into her bag, tucking the piece of parchment into one of the pockets of her bag and stood up.

She shivered as a draft wafted down the corridor. The kind of draft that said a door had just been opened somewhere. Frowning she turned around and started walking back down the hallway, she stopped at the tapestry that was moving slightly. As if it was blowing in the wind.

Moving it to one side only revealed stone wall, though Holly senses were tingling that something else was there. Something she just couldn't see.

She felt along the wall, though no visible cracks were there other than the natural grooves in some of the stones.

 _Where was the draft coming from?_

She felt it first, tiny vibrations running through the wall to her hands. She heard the groan and watched as the wall slid open revealing a dark entrance. Holly only had seconds before she was thrown off her feet by a solid body crashing into her.

"Whoa!" a young male voice cried out as they fell tumbling downwards, "Oi, Forge, Sleuw has booby trapped the other side." He added when he landed.

Holly pushed the boy, who had fallen on top of her off, wheezing as she gasped for air. Well, that had certainly knocked the wind right out of her. Glancing up she saw a head stick out of the side of a tapestry looking down at her, with a wide grin on his face.

"That's no booby trap Gred, that's a girl," the red haired floating head said cheerfully, "You alright down there?"

"Course she is, nothing more than a tumble," Gred answered for her, as he stood up, offering her a hand, which she took. He hauled her up with a grin, making a show of checking her over.

"Course it's always safe to double check. No broken bones, no cuts, right, I deem you fit and as healthy as you were before your fall."

"That's good to know," Holly muttered, but she doubted either heard her as they continued to bounce back and forth like lightning.

"Terribly sorry, Gred here has always been a clumsy one. Almost as if he was born with two left feet."

"Ah, what dear Forge has failed to mention is he's the forgetful one. It is two right feet not left, and while clumsy I may be, I am still the pretty one."

"Scandalise, I'm the pretty one!" Forge cried in mock rage.

Holly was certain her face was an open book of confusion and bewilderment but nodded once to show acceptance if not understanding of the conversation going on before her.

"See, forgetful and rude, though in all the confusion I do believe I forgot to apologise for running into you, it was a rather delicate situation you see, though I won't bore you will the details."

The other one snorted, "You are the bore. I'm Fred," he greeted offering a hand for her to shake, "maybe." He added with a wink.

"George, likewise."

"And we are the infamous, dashingly handsome Weasley Twins."

"Who?" Holly asked, genuinely confused by the whole affair. Weasley was a name she recognised, a brother she presumed was in her year, but she hadn't been aware that there were so many of them.

Rather than taking offence both of their faces split into grins like Cheshire cats.

"A kindred spirit!" Fred laughed.

"Indeed we have brother mine. Indeed we have." George agreed.

Holly blinked at them both, she couldn't keep up with their lightning flash responses with each other, let alone who was actually who.

"Be a dear and tell us your name?" one of them asked.

"Holly."

"Holly, Holly Black."

She nodded once, feeling slightly uncomfortable by the intensity of their gazes, but she refused to look away from them. Instead met their gazes with her own.

"The mysterious Black, I do believe dear Fred we have a prodigy on our hands. Perhaps even an apprentice."

"She does show promise; we will have to see how strong it is, though."

"How strong what is?" she asked, feeling a slight twinge of a headache. Gods they were exhausting.

"That's for us to know and you to find out," they chorused with identical grins and a mischievous glint in their eyes that would have made Will nervous.

"So where does the passage come from?" she asked, not expecting an answer, but at the very least trying to take control of the conversation.

"Ah, noticed that did you. We usually don't share trade secrets and all, but since you did cushion the blow of a hard floor, and you have clearly seen it would be rude not to tell you," George, or at least she thought it was George, said with a sheepish look crossing his face.

"It leads to the first floor, or if you want to be more precise the East side of the library, come along," Fred took over as he looped an arm through hers.

"It will be our pleasure," George continued doing the same on the opposite side, "and we couldn't really think of more exciting company to be in this beautiful morning. The Mysterious Black, the Magic-Born-Muggle-Raised wonder girl."

Holly groaned, "Please tell me that really wasn't the term they used in the paper."

"Fraid so kitten, too long winded if you ask me," Fred answered as he tickled the wall, using the tapestry as his guide where water and stone met, "though come to think of it I might have added the wonder girl part myself."

"Fred likes to think of himself as a wordsmith, though normally he is at a loss for words," George chuckled.

The wall slid open, and between the two of them, Holly was shoved behind the tapestry and into the darkness of the passage. The wall slide closed behind them.

United, they both, cast a spell she recognised as the wand-lighting charm, and the passageway lit up. A few steps ahead of them was a steep set of steps, she could see why George or Fred had crashed into her if they had been coming down at speed.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

They nodded once to each other before towing her up the stairs, skipping the third step up with a warning, 'trip step', and a muttered 'in a rush, I took a misstep', all the while chattering away.

Holly felt herself slowly relaxing around them, airing with a side of caution at what possible mad adventure they would come up with next, they reminded her of Will. Playful, fun and refusing to take life seriously at all. In all honesty, they were refreshing from the severe nature of her housemates, but she supposed she wasn't being fair to them really, it was still early enough that they didn't really know her, or she them.

"...the passageway takes you into the back of the East Side, Enchantment section to be more precise. Rarely students sit at the study area there, but they do frequent for the books," Fred warned, "thankfully it doesn't exit on the West side."

"Why what is the west side?" Holly asked

"We call them the love shelves, there is a passage there too, which leads up to the fifth floor but it's the area that older students tend to use for more personal reasons than studying," George answered, "there was that one time we rushed out without checking..."

"A mistake we will never make again," Fred shuddered dramatically.

"And a couple of prefects were in a delicate situation, scared me for life I swear."

Holly could stop the laugh that escaped her. Both boys turned to look at her in disbelief.

"Here that George, she is laughing at out plight."

"She is indeed Fred, she is indeed. Show us some mercy kitten, we were only twelve."

"I'm not sure who would have been more traumatised, you, or the prefects."

"Of definitely us." They answered jointly.

"Right, we are here. Now pay attention Kitten, a useful spell to ensure no one is there when you exit is a Human-presence-revealing spell. Incantation is _Homenum Revellio._ Got that."

Holly nodded once and repeated the incantation back to them three times. Satisfied she had in right they carried forward, extinguishing their wands, a few more steps before pausing. Holly could see the light shining through little gaps ahead of them. The passageway just stopping behind a large bookshelf.

"Okay Kitten, we want you to cast the spell first. See if you got the knack for it, then I will cast it just to double check. If the coast is clear I will step out, and then I want you to cast the spell again so you can feel the difference if it works," George whispered to her.

He let her step forward until she had her nose almost pressed against the bookcase, from where she was standing she could see the slight difference in its position compared to the others, allowing someone to slip behind and no one would be any wiser.

Pointing her wand in the direction of the exit she cast the spell, _"Homenum Revellio!"_

Nothing happened.

She heard George cast the spell after her before he slipped out of the passage and into the library.

Fred nudged her slightly, and she cast the spell a second time, this time a red outline in the shape of a human body glowed.

"I can see someone there," she whispered to Fred.

"Good, come along Kitten, we at least know you can cast the spell correctly."

He slipped ahead of her out of the entrance. She followed behind him and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the sudden burst of light.

Turning around to see where the passageway entrance actually was, she was amazed that it blended perfectly into the background. She had just exited it, and she had no idea where it was. Picking a book off the shelf, she could see the solid back of the bookcase giving no indicator either.

"You have to push on the bookcase which will slide the wall open behind allowing you to slip inside," George chuckled.

Holly did so, just to reassure herself _she_ would be able to find it without their aid. She pushed on the bookcase and walked to where she presumed the entrance would be. Her eyes though were telling her she was just going to hit the bookshelf, but she didn't. Instead, she could see the entrance behind the bookcase.

An illusion, a slight of hand, you either knew it was there, or you stumbled by accident onto it.

"No passwords or tickling needed?"

George shook his head, "Not on this one no, we did wonder why, but most people aren't looking for it, so they don't see it."

Holly nodded once before realisation dawned on her where she was actually standing.

The library.

"Well this is where we leave you Kitten, have fun and try not to get into too much trouble," Fred said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"I will leave that to you shall I?"

They both chuckled quietly in response before walking away. Holly watched them disappear down one of the many aisles leaving her by herself. Not that she minded one little bit.

The Library was unbelievable. Breathtaking.

She picked an aisle at random to walk down, taking note of the signpost marking the section or the letter of the alphabet. There were study tables nestled throughout red-carpeted rooms, crisscrossed and walled with full bookshelves. Looking up she could see those shelves continued high above her, indicating at the very least another level if not more. She could see books flying like birds to their rightful shelves.

It was like a labyrinth, a maze she wasn't sure she ever wanted to leave. And this was only the East side.

Holly exited through a double door into what was clearly the heart of the library. It was massive like a cathedral, bigger than the Great Hall. It kept on going up and up. In the middle was a large round desk which Holly could only presume was the librarian's desk as books were flying off it in multiple directions.

She wanted to stay but knew she didn't have the time right now. Not if she wanted to get to breakfast before too many questions were asked.

With a silent promise to herself that she would return soon, she exited the library and attempted to find stairs down to the Great Hall.

* * *

X

Holly was relieved when Friday finally arrived.

They only had four lessons, double potions in the morning and Transfiguration and Evocation after lunch, leaving them with the rest of the day to themselves.

Not that she doubted anyone would be doing anything other than homework. So far all of their classes had given them some assignment to complete by the following week. She doubted Potions would be any different.

"I can't wait for a lie-in tomorrow," Theo groaned as she sat down for breakfast.

"Breakfast is still going to be at the same time Theo," Blaise chuckled.

"Yes, but it won't matter so much if I miss it." The brown haired boy grumbled.

"I can't bring myself to think about all the assignments I still have left to do, I know some of them are relatively straightforward like History of Magic, and some are just practical like Evocation which is still on-going, but did every class have to give us something," Malfoy moaned.

Holly still wasn't sure what to make of the blonde-haired boy. One second he acted like a spoilt brat who thought the world owed him everything, other times he was serious while trying to act older than he actually was and then he acted his age. He had made other attempts to strike up a conversation with her since the first day something which she hadn't ignored, but she had a feeling he always left confused or dissatisfied with something when it ended.

Laughter erupted from the Gryffindor table, the Weasley twins at the heart of it. She smiled at the thought of their meeting yesterday. They certainly had been a bewildering pair, and she wasn't sure exactly what to make of them either.

"Your father knows Professor Snape, any tips you can offer us?"

"Professor Snape does not suffer fools lightly," Malfoy shrugged, choosing not to expand any further.

Not that it was needed. They had all heard the stories about their Head of House; he was not a Professor any of them wanted to cross if they didn't have to.

Finishing their breakfast, they made their way down to the Potions classroom and entered. They still had fifteen minutes to spare before class began, allowing them plenty of time to set up. One of the prefects had pre-warned them that Snape liked the students who came to class prepared.

Holly took her seat, surprised when Malfoy was sitting on her left rather than Blaise. She had half come to expect the dark skinned boy as it was usually him and Daphne that she was in the middle of.

Malfoy was looking at her, grey eyes meeting her own green ones almost daring her to say something. Instead, she just smiled at him in greeting and set about setting her station up, though not before spotting the shrug Blaise sent her way as he took a seat directly behind her with Theo and Millicent.

She wasn't entirely sure when everyone become their first name rather than their last names, though a few still remained as distant as the first night. Over the course of the week, Holly found herself mostly in Daphne, Blaise, Theo and Millicent's company.

Holly skimmed through the first chapter of her Potions book, for something to do rather than because she hadn't already.

The other chatted quietly amongst themselves, and slowly the Gryffindors started entering the classroom.

Doge was first, with Neville by her side.

The boy smiled at her, "Hi Holly," he greeted, nervously casting a glance at her housemates.

"Hello Neville, congratulations on getting into Gryffindor."

"Thanks," the boy beamed, "So Slytherin huh."

Holly could feel the tension shift in the room instantly.

"And what exactly is that suppose to mean Longbottom?" Malfoy questioned his voice sharp and cold.

Neville shifted on his feet ever so slightly before muttering an answer, "nothing."

Holly felt sorry for him, he hadn't meant anything with the comment, but she could see how her housemates who prided themselves on being Slytherin took it the wrong way. Doge was watching them like a hawk, taking a step closer to Neville and her hand not quite reaching for her wand, but certainly closer than Holly felt comfortable with.

"Neville and I shared a compartment on the train journey here. We discussed the houses, and I noted that I was uncertain which House I would go to."

Daphne snorted, "It was evident which house you would be going to Holly."

"Really!" Holly answered in surprise.

"I knew you were Slytherin material the first time I saw you," Daphne added.

Doge snorted, "Slytherin material, what exactly does that mean."

"You wouldn't understand Doge," Daphne answered, her voice not quite dismissive but close enough that Doge's eyes hardened and she bristled in response.

"Over-privileged, arrogant, obnoxious, self-centered brats then?" Doge spat, the bitterness in her voice was hard to miss, "who think the world owes them everything, and they don't have to work for a damn thing. If that is Slytherin material, then I am glad _I_ don't understand."

"Careful Doge, hypocrisy doesn't suit you, I vaguely remember your arrogance showing when answering questions right _and when casting spells successfully_ , compared to your classmates. Whose hand is always the first in the air?" Daphne explained, she wasn't shouting, but her voice had gone dangerously cold. "There is a thin line between intelligence and showing off. Where exactly do you fall?"

Doge didn't get a chance to answer, the door opened and three more Gryffindor's entered. She recognised one to be a Weasley by his red hair; the other was Finnigan but the third she didn't know.

It forced Doge and Neville to take seats on the opposite side of the room, Neville threw her a sheepish look which she returned with a small smile.

Doge was angry and bitter about something; Holly couldn't deny that the girl was intelligent. In the classes, they had shared so far she had proven that, but the underlay to the girl was far darker than that. The girl had a right to be, angry at the world. But then she wasn't the only one who had been given a bad start. Life wasn't fair; there was nothing you could do about it. You either adapted and hoped you came out on top or you let it steamroll you into a grave.

"They call you by your first name?"

Holly turned to look at Malfoy who by the expression on his face wasn't pleased with her.

"Neville does," she answered.

"I don't even call you by your first name." He bit out through clenched teeth.

"I wasn't aware you wished to," she replied, with a frown.

Malfoy stared down at her, his eyes wide in surprise. He opened his mouth once and snapped it shut quickly, then it opened it again, "Wasn't aware - wished...that's not the point."

"You can call me Holly is you want to," she said, throwing him a reassuring smile. She hadn't been aware that Malfoy felt put out because _he_ wasn't calling her by her first name.

Malfoy looked at her unsurely, the anger that had blazed in his eyes and all but vanished, "well, alright then," the blonde said uncertainly, "but you have to call me Draco."

"Certainly Draco," she grinned.

Daphne snorted from her other side, and Blaise and Theo sniggered behind them.

A few minutes later, the door swung open and the entire class fell silent as Professor Snape stalked into the room like a shadow. With a flick of his wand, the door slammed shut behind him, causing several students to jump in their seats.

The bell rang as he strode forward to the front of the classroom, his black robes sweeping behind him.

He turned to face them, gazing down his nose at them, his eyes were black. Cold and empty that reminded Holly of dark tunnels. He started roll calling, with a sense of impatience and disdain. He paused on her name with a slight grimace. The edges of his mouth tilting ever so slightly.

She didn't think the grimace meant anything good.

The class fell silent after Zabini confirmed his presence. Professor Snape's eyes glanced over them like a hawk looking for prey. Seeking out any weakness.

In that, he reminded her of Riddle.

"Potions is a demanding art," he began, "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making."

He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, their Head of House had the gift of keeping the class silent without effort.

"I don't expect many of you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through the human veins, bewitching the minds and ensnaring the senses," he paused letting his words to sink in.

"But to those of you who appreciate that at times Potions takes more than it gives I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death."

Holly could admit that Potions had captured her interest long before she had heard of Hogwarts. Whether she would be any good at it, she couldn't say. From the speech, Snape had given she doubted it was going to be an easy subject to learn.

Not a single person had moved a muscle throughout Snape's speech as he had walked down the aisles of the classroom.

"Black!" he barked.

Holly was grateful she hadn't jumped in surprise.

"Yes Sir," she said looking up at him, he was close enough to pierce her with his sharp eyes. She could feel the weight boring down on her.

"Where would I find a Bezoar and what is it used for?"

Holly mentally left out a sigh of relief. She had read her textbook multiple times, but even then she knew she wouldn't be able to retain every little bit of information. Bezoar had stuck out because of its usefulness. A tool in the arsenal that would add a layer of protection, when she had one.

"It is a small stone that neutralises most poisons and can be found in the stomach of a goat."

"Name one poison it would _not_ neutralise?"

"Bloodroot Poison," she answered. That one had stuck out in her mind as well, its main ingredient bloodroot killed animal cells. The exact effects on the body were unknown, but one of the _known_ effects were excessive bleeding. She had read there was no known cure for the poison.

He didn't congratulate her, didn't give her any indication that she was right or wrong, he just stared at her intensely for a moment longer before snapping out the next name.

She felt like she could breathe now he was no longer boring down, and tried to focus on the questions he was asking her classmates.

"Weasley!"

The redhead boy gulped nervously and seemed to pale considerably as he shifted in his seat.

"Name a potion that Pungous onions are used in?"

"Uh...I don't know, sorry."

Snape waved his wand at the blackboard where writing slowly started to appear.

"To answer your question, Mr Weasley," he said with a bit more rancour than perhaps was really needed, "something you would have been able to answer had you bothered to pick up your book and read before entering this classroom. Pungous onions are used in a Boil Cure potion. Something which you will all be making now."

He looked at them all, his gaze no friendlier than it had been at the beginning of the lesson.

"The instructions are on the board, if you do not have all the ingredients in your kits, then you may use the student store cupboard at the front to collect the missing ingredients," he stated, "You have until the end of the lesson to complete the potion. You may begin."

Holly lit the flame under the cauldron allowing it to settle and heat slowly as the book recommended. She read over her textbook and memorised the steps before moving the book out of her way so she could begin crushing six snake fangs in the mortar.

She added the powdered fangs to the cauldron and stirred three times clockwise. Slicing the Pungous onion finely before adding them, the dried nettles and a dash of flobberworm mucus before stirring vigorously.

There was something methodical about Potions, almost therapeutic. Unlike the uncertainty with casting spells in Potions provided you followed the instructions to the letter then the results would speak for themselves.

She added and stirred the ingredients one by one, watching the potion come to life before her eyes. Each step bringing a tingle of excitement.

Professor Snape watched them like a hawk, circling those students who seemed like they were struggling. Swooping down on them. He wasn't nice about it, causing more than a few to flinch back at the bite of his tone, but he it seemed had prevented disaster with the almost mishaps.

Holly remembered to take her cauldron off the fire before adding the porcupine quills but only just.

Waving her wand over the potion to finish, smiling slightly pink smoke raised from the cauldron. According to the book, it meant she had been successful, but she supposed only Snape would be the true judge of that.

Holly bottled her sample before packing up her station and ensuring her cauldron was thoroughly cleaned and dried. Draco had finished a few moments ahead of her as had Doge.

She placed her sample on Snape's desk before returning to her station.

"You have twenty minutes left," Snape announced to the class, causing a few students to panic and stir a little more vigorously than they had previously.

Not wanting to waste time sitting ideally Holly reached for her textbook and began reading the next few chapters, and possible future potions they would be brewing in the class.

"What do you think of Hogwarts so far?" Draco asked quietly.

Holly glanced at him, the class wasn't exactly silent, but there wasn't useless chatter happening either. Considering that they both had finished their potions though she presumed that Draco wanted to pass the time.

 _Plus you can't run away for the next twenty minutes._

Mentally she snorted at the thought.

"It is more than I expected. The lessons are interesting, and there are some that aren't what I was expecting." She answered honestly.

"Such as?"

"Evocation."

The blonde haired boy snorted looking startled at the sound as if he hadn't realised he was doing it.

"Evocation is definitely different."

"Are you enjoying Hogwarts?" she asked, attempting to turn the conversation away from her.

He looked at her curiously, as if weighing up what to tell her. "I have wanted to come to Hogwarts since I was little. I just can't wait to start duelling and get really stuck in. My father is considered quite the duellist, he wanted to start getting me lessons before Hogwarts, but mother said no."

His grey eyes lit up ever so slightly when talking about his father.

"Tell me about him," she nudged.

"My father?" he looked at her with suspicion, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"You said he was considered quite the duelist, has he been in many?" she asked, hoping the question didn't offend him.

The suspicion lessened to a degree, and he happily started talking about some of the duels his father had been in. Holly couldn't decide how much of the details were fact, or whether he was over exaggerating but from the way, Draco talked duels did sound quite incredible.

It was also clear to see that Draco Malfoy held his father in the highest regard.

Just before the bell rang Snape gave them their homework for the weekend, due the following Monday.

* * *

XX

* * *

 **A.N:-** I do not own the recognised scene from Harry Potter and the Philosopher Stone for the Potions lesson.


	13. Chapter 13

Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, added to favourites and alerts. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Chapter 12:- **A Goal without A Plan**

Tom would be lying if he said he enjoyed the first week of a new term.

In fact, if he was going, to be honest, he hated everything about a school term. Running a school had never been part of his plan, and the only real enjoyment that kept him perhaps marginally sane was he spent fifty percent of his time teaching.

He had ensured that he would have that at the very least.

But even then the first week was difficult.

He had the tedious task of reminding students that he only accepted the very best when they should know better. Hated breaking in the new frightened first years.

Hated listening to the grumbles of his staff as they adjusted to the new school year. For brief moments they forgot themselves, forgetting who he was, thinking of times past, while they prattled on about what new discoveries they had found in the care of plants, or magical creatures. Or gossiped about former students and their accomplishments. And then they remembered who they were talking to and shut up before he could curse them into oblivion.

But most of all he hated the paperwork that was involved.

Even leaving the day to day running of the School to McGonagall he still had the tedious task of reading reports and authorising requests. Then he had the school budget to be concerned over and the constant battle to gain more funding, hiring new staff, seeking more ways to ensure Hogwarts ranking stayed on top and justifying every change he made to the school.

Grindelwald may have _gifted_ him the school but thousands of years of tradition had ensured he was in part still answerable to the Board. And while more than a few members were _his loyal_ servants, there were those that still made things difficult as and when they could. Not enough for him to take action against them, but sufficient to make him irritable.

He wanted, no he needed complete control, and there was only one way he could accomplish that.

Grindelwald had really been ingenious upon giving Hogwarts to him. He had tied him up in so many knots and webs that brute force wouldn't be able to unravel. Instead, he had to play the Game and keep four or five steps ahead.

Of course, his old master had underestimated his resolve, and while _he_ was tied to the school that did not mean he was unable to divert his attention and focus to other Games and dances.

He had several meetings this weekend, the first due to start in a moment.

Provided Severus was not late.

As if his thoughts had summoned him, he was aware of the Silver Snake sentries slipping aside to let someone up the staircase that led to his office and private quarters. The slight tingle of his wards being passed at the base of his spine.

Seconds later, precisely at eight o'clock Severus knocked on his door and entered his office.

Punctual. But then his servants knew he hated anything less.

"My Lord," Severus greeted, instantly bowing his head.

He nodded once in acknowledgement refraining from saying anything and watched Severus rise in the centre of the room. He didn't take a seat, but the Tom hadn't offered him to do so.

Out of all his followers, Severus was one of the few that were difficult to read. His mask firmly in place at all times never once cracked. Tom knew he had the man's loyalty, of that he had no doubt, the few times he had entered the man's mind as was his right, had reaffirmed that loyalty if nothing else. And yet even now he couldn't say for certain what Severus wanted. Others were easy to determine, Lucius wanted power and prestige but more than that he believed wholeheartedly in this new better world where the Wizardkind ruled. Bellatrix wanted whatever he desired, so focused on ensuring his every whim was met. But in truth, she was driven by a primal need to kill and destroy. Tom may have twisted and moulded her into a weapon of his choosing, but Bellatrix had been half mad long before him.

But Severus gave no indication as to why he had joined their cause, why he was loyal or even what he wanted.

His only slip had been when he had begged for a mudblood's life to be spared, something Tom hadn't understood at the time but had granted, until he discovered that mudblood had been Lily Potter and Grindelwald had been personally hunting the Potter's down.

That he had been unable to give. And within weeks of Severus begging news had reached them that the Potter family had been killed.

The silence stretched out between them. If it had been anyone else in the office with him, Tom would have started to see signs of nervousness, but as always Severus remained the marble he always had been.

"How was your first week Severus?" he asked.

"The second years are abysmal, the third years show some promise, that is provided I can stop those blasted Weasley Twins from killing themselves and everyone else. Though I want to have Rosier ready to take his N.E. no later than his sixth year."

"Yes, I did see your recommendation. Evans will be proud of his son, he is quite promising on the duelling field as well."

"As is his father."

"To be expected from the Rosier family then."

"And what of the first years?" he asked. He already had a file on each student, ready for him to read through when time allowed.

"There were a few mishaps with the first year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw class," Severus sneered, "that ended with them attending the Hospital Wing. The Ravenclaws at least show some promise. I will be keeping a close eye on the Greengrass girl; it would be interesting if she lived up to her family's reputation."

"How is Black settling down?" he asked, it wouldn't raise too much suspicion if asked about her specifically, especially as he had mentored her over the summer.

Severus didn't answer straight away, in fact, Tom could see just a slight clenching of the man's jaw. _Is that a crack in the mask? Of course, Severus and Sirius had been rivals back in their own school years._

Was it even now that Severus couldn't see past the name and only see the child of a man he hated?

"I have had no major issues brought to my attention, but then I have not had any issues brought to my attention about any of my first years," Severus drawled, showing a lack of interest in discussing the girl.

Tom smirked slightly at the man.

"Her performance in Potions?"

"Adequate. Hardly noteworthy."

High praise from Severus since most of his students were idiots who couldn't be trusted to find their own wands let alone make a potion. But he doubted Black would get anything else from him, certainly never praise.

"You said no major issues, has someone brought a concern to your attention?" he pushed further.

"McGonagall has mentioned that Black seems to be struggling with transfiguring a matchstick into a needle, though she isn't too concerned as it is only the first week."

Tom nodded once. He would discuss it with Black when he saw her tomorrow evening. First week or not, he would expect nothing but her very best in all subjects.

"I trust you will be having one to one meetings with your students over the coming weeks, discuss with your first years the importance of extracurricular activities as well as their school work."

Severus nodded his head showing acknowledgement.

"Doge had taken a Ward," he announced, turning the conversation away from the week's classes and to the heart of why he had called Severus here.

"I am aware, my Lord, but only as she is in my class. He had made no mention of it the previous year."

"So it is a new thing then, it does make one curious why he would after making his opinion of the system well known for so long."

"Perhaps he had a change of heart."

"Yes, but who changed it for him. Doge is a stubborn old wizard who is stuck in the old days. He wouldn't change it willingly."

"What would you have me do, my Lord?"

"Watch them both. I don't trust the old man. I am well aware of his opinion of me, but I can't argue that he isn't good at his old job. I can't fire him simply because he doesn't like me."

"And killing him would look too suspicious." He added as an afterthought. "For now, simply watch them."

"As you wish my Lord," Severus nodded, though he showed signs of hesitation.

"Problem Severus?"

"Lucius sends his regards."

Tom felt his jaw twitch. It was carefully worded, but its meaning was clear. The fact that Lucius had sent it through Severus meant he didn't want to be seen contacting the Headmaster.

"I trust he is well?"

Severus' expression showed something other than a blank mask. It was grave one would even say. "He has invited the Minister for tea."

Tom felt his blood starting to boil. He could read between the lines, it wasn't Lucius who had invited the Minister for tea, no it was the other way round, and the only reason Fudge would do that was to question Lucius about him.

Keeping his face smooth from the anger that was raging inside him, "I see, and how did the tea go?"

"Lucius expressed concern over the health of the Minister. The investigation is not going as well as expected, and the growing unrest in the Warren is still a matter of concern," Severus answered, his face sombre. "Lucius also commented that Montague was also present."

 _Montague,_ Tom regretted not killing the man when he had the chance. He was loyal to Grindelwald there was no argument there. As Head of the British Black Dogs, he had the resources available to him to find any information he required.

He was dangerous.

The fact that Montague hated him was problematic.

"The hounds are barking," he mused. He should have seen this coming, and he had been foolish not to. At the beginning of Fudge's power, it had always been him he had gone to for advice. The last few years, since Montague's appointment that had changed. Fudge still came to him for help, but he didn't always take it. The seeds he planted didn't always grow. He hadn't anticipated Montague to use the attack to his advantage.

"Indeed My Lord," Severus agreed, "speculation that perhaps there was more to this attack than originally thought. That it goes higher than pure rebels."

Tom blinked in surprise.

Montague was whispering in Fudge's ear that _he_ was perhaps behind the attack. That he wanted to overthrow Fudge's power base and take it for himself. And while Montague was partly right, for once Tom could admit he was not behind the attack. Neither Severus nor Lucius would have said it in so many words but then if it were not a threat to him, then they would not have brought it to his attention.

"That is a serious accusation, especially considering who I am. Montague suspects that Lucius loyalty is to me and not the Empire, so he is testing him, while also whispering to Fudge that I am a threat," Tom paused, it was smart. Ingenious.

If he were to act straight away, he would fall right into Montague's hands. Something he had no intention of doing. No, this would take caution and patience.

A minor annoyance.

It didn't distract from the overall aim.

"Thank you, Severus, for bringing this matter to my attention. Please send my regards to Lucius." _Hold your hand and wait for further instruction._

He didn't need to voice the words; both Severus and Lucius were smart enough to read between the lines.

Severus bowed, before leaving the room. The man knew a dismissal even if it hadn't been voiced in such away.

If it had been anyone else Montague was scheming against it was a ploy that would work, however, he had forgotten one thing.

 _He_ wasn't just anyone.

He even wasn't just Tom Riddle, Heir to the Empire and Headmaster of Hogwarts.

He was Voldemort and a Lord in his own right.

The world had seemed to have forgotten that fact.

Montague could scheme all he liked, he would deal with both him and Fudge when the time was right, until then perhaps it was time to start reminding the world why he had been feared more than Grindelwald had during the war.

The attack hadn't been a part of his plan, but he would use it to his advantage.

Reaching for pieces of parchment he quickly wrote a brief sentence to Black, giving her the key she needed to enter his office at seven the following evening as they had prearranged.

His second was to one of his followers which he quickly dispatched with his owl. He only had one more thing he needed to write, reaching for the third draw down of his desk he pulled out a small non-descript brown wooden box. He wrote four words on a piece of parchment, just four, _We need to meet,_ before placing it into the box and closing the lid. He waited no longer than five minutes ensuring the recipient had had the time to receive and respond before opening the box again.

His parchment was still there, but under his sentence was the familiar writing of another.

 _The usual place._

Tom leant back into his chair and smiled to himself.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Severus Snape entered his private quarters just after midnight. Satisfied that his evening rounds were over, he went immediately to his liquor cabinet and selected the strongest bottle of whisky he had.

The first week was always one of the most stressful.

 _Not that it has even been a full week,_ a voice sniped.

Four day, four days and those four days had long since worn away his nerves.

 _Not that you have much, to begin with._ The voice argued.

And yet it was perhaps not just the stresses of the first week that had worn on his nerves.

His thoughts twisted about, as he settled into his favourite chair, finding paths to old memories he had long thought buried. Memories of less difficult days, when enemies meant jibes and pranks and war was happening outside the walls of Hogwarts. Though he supposed even then there had been the complications of war, but at thirteen - fourteen one thought one untouchable and his greatest responsibility was to pass his exams and prove his worth to the Battle Crops.

Back then it seemed an impossibility that the Ministry would ever fall or that he would ever follow another path.

Nostalgia was unknown company for someone like him, especially about times best forgotten in another life.

Perhaps though memories of childhood nemesis were to be expected, considering the circumstances.

Sirius fucking Black.

A boy he had hated, and one he had presumed long dead along with those other unnamed memories that he had buried deeply and couldn't bring himself to unbury.

There had been no hint that there had been a child.

Until his Lord had discovered her.

Even then he had hoped it wasn't true and dreaded the day she would eventually come to Hogwarts.

She had been sorted into his house, was put under his charge. Bad enough he had to deal with her classes let alone be the support system he was legally required to be.

He had searched for her father in her when he came face to face with her. Hoping that he would see the familiarity there like so many other children that were almost perfect imitations of their parents.

He needed his rage and hatred of her father to help him bear the next seven years.

 _Should she survive that long?_

Her hair was black and her skin far too pale, but as he searched for the similarities, he only found the differences. Strikingly so that he made him question every memory he had of _her_ father.

She was a scrawny little thing compared to her classmates, though he supposed he could put that down to her history more than anything else. He wouldn't use the word plain, but she was a child who would either grow into her looks or wouldn't, and you couldn't quite determine whether that would mean beautiful or not.

Not that he held much importance to things. But the one thing that stood out about Black was her eyes. Brilliant green eyes that almost glowed in the shadows of the dungeons.

Green eyes that haunted him and he couldn't for the life of him remember why.

Why did green eyes hold any more significance than any other colour?

Why were they important?

He could feel the pressure building up, the more he thought, painfully so. He forgot something, something important. What was it?

He never forgot anything.

A hazy fog was wrapping itself the more he tried to recall.

 _Green eyes. Green eyes. What was important about green eyes?_

Haunting green eyes.

Black had green eyes.

He frowned.

Something wasn't right.

He knew it, and it infuriated him.

Anger burned inside of him, hidden behind his walls. He felt vulnerable, and he hated feeling helpless. He hadn't felt helpless since he was a child and left to the tender loving care of his father and...

Haunting green eyes.

He swore.

What wasn't he remembering?

Severus knew the answer was just out of reach.

Not that he had the time to dwell on green eyes.

His Lord had given him a task and one that would require his full attention rather than things that were better left forgotten. No matter how much he couldn't shake the idea of the importance of green eyes.

He needed to discover what Doge's motives were for taking a Ward when he had refused to sponsor any of the Muggle-borns since the system had been put into place.

He took another sip of his third whisky, wondering when exactly his life had become as complicated as it had. But such thoughts were for the weak. He had been dealt his hand and to ensure he came out on the winning side he needed to complete his task that his Lord had set him.

He would watch Doge, the girl, and he would even pay close attention to Black.

And while he wanted to hate her, hate the spawn of Sirius Black he couldn't find it in himself to do so. Not when it was evident to him that his Lord had taken such an interest in the girl.

Perhaps that would be punishment enough for the girl, though a part of his was wrapped with guilt at such a thought, especially since no one actually remained the same after their Lord was finished with them.

No Severus Snape pitied Holly Black for the fate that had fallen on her of crossing paths with his Lord.

More than he liked to admit.

He took another sip and wished to forget the past and all the old memories it stirred.

He wanted to forget haunting green eyes and sink into oblivion.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Daphne Greengrass sat down at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall for breakfast quietly observing her fellow housemates while she filled her plate with a variety of foods she liked.

The weekend had finally arrived, the result of which being a breakfast that was long and lingering. It seemed no one was eager to start the day, and the steady buzz of conversation in the Hall had a light, happy energy.

Daphne found it positively dull.

Not that she had any love for drama, the tedious swirl of emotions that some people thrived in, but as she listened to her housemates chatter amongst themselves she couldn't help but wonder if this was it. It was like none of them had an original thought in their bodies.

Oh, she didn't mean in the grand scheme of things, that was far too melodramatic, and she was anything but melodramatic, but as she studied each of the first years, she couldn't help but feel it was. The same people, the same needless social settings and insignificant chatter; who was among the top ten most stylish witches, who was wearing whose designs, who was scheming to marry into which family and so forth.

As she glanced around observing in the way her father had taught her, filing away every little detail so she could analysis it at a later date, Daphne couldn't help but compare them to the small social gatherings she had accompanied her mother too.

 _Rather an attempt to imitate their parents._

Pansy Parkinson, a miniature version of her mother, brown haired and brown eyed, was twirling a piece of hair around her fingers as she chattered happily to Tracey Davis and a few of the mainlanders that had it seemed circulated around her. Discussing in length the outfits that had been worn at the Malfoy Garden Party, an annual social gathering held every summer before the new school term started. Along with the upcoming social events that they would miss this year being in school.

Though Daphne noticed she kept a careful eye on the entrance to the hall.

 _No doubt waiting to see if Malfoy enters, mother said that Rowan Parkinson was eager to have her daughter marry into the Malfoy family._

She had already, not so subtly, hinted at an arrangement between the two families. A feat that was on the mind of a high number of families, Daphne had no doubt, and if one of them were successful, it would rank higher their social standing considerably. Pansy, it seemed had taken her mother's idea to heart and by hinting at it was already establishing her place amongst her fellow first years on the game board that was at the very core of their life.

They, far less skilled than their parents at playing but still a vital part of the board, were tools in their families' arsenal. It was just one of many lessons her father had ensured she learnt.

 _Remember Daphne, they will be the eyes and ears of our enemies and allies, choose carefully who you call a friend. The game only recognises strength, and like moths to flames, they will flock to the strong. Only real friends will be there when you are weak, and they are a rare creature. Be strong, rely only on yourself, and you will go far._

Her father's words echoed loudly in her mind. It was a harsh lesson but a necessary one. Her younger self-hadn't understood what he had meant but had learnt quickly that her desire for friendship and companionship was a fool's errand. A dream. In this new world, this dog eats dog world, kindness was a rarity, friendship even more so. Anybody could betray you, and as Daphne glanced around at the others, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction that by already accepting that truth she was one step ahead.

She wouldn't trust them to have her back should she really need it. Wouldn't trust them to not stab her in the back if she allowed such an opportunity to happen. Just by observing them she could see it clearly playing out before her, Tracey Davies latching on to Pansy Parkinson, Pansy preening under the attention not seeing the pitfall should she fail to deliver on her _hinted arrangement_ the girl would drop her like yesterday's news. Maybe she was cynical; maybe she saw the wheels within wheels and the moves on the board when there were none. But she was her father's daughter, and her father lived and breathed in schemes and conspiracies. _Knowledge is Power_ that was his motto, and one Daphne had been brought up to believe in.

Yet despite this wisdom, Daphne was lonely, lonely and bored.

And to an eleven-year-old lonely and bored were terrible things.

It was why perhaps she had reached out to Holly Black when others would have cautioned against it, her own father included.

 _Holly Black_ , the half-blood raised by muggles, another equal impossibility that defined all odds in this new world and yet here she was standing before her. Her father hadn't given the girl much thought when discussing who to keep an eye on. The girl's father a wanted man and a traitor - her standing there before even further proof of that treachery and yet half-blood she may be she made the air sing and hum with pure magic.

Some would say it was social suicide offering her friendship, in fact, Parkinson had warned that it would be suicide on their second night, but Daphne had never really been interested in what Parkinson had to say.

So Daphne had pushed on to reach out because the girl had been interesting when everyone else had not been. An unknown. Holly was a bit of a puzzle, and Daphne had always loved puzzles.

As if her thoughts had summoned her, Daphne became aware that Holly had entered the Great Hall. Despite facing away from the entrance, it was easy to tell. The energy of the Hall changed. She wasn't the only one to find Holly Black an interesting puzzle. Curious glances followed her where ever she went. An oddity in the sense she had lived the forbidden life and everyone was curious about what was prohibited. Even if none would dare to venture there.

And yet Holly seemed oblivious to it all. Uninterested in the attention that was on her.

Daphne knew she would have to write sooner or later to her father, telling him that ignoring Holly Black would be a mistake. Even the girl's inaction would affect the Game, and that was something they would all need to prepare for.

Daphne smiled to herself, there may be uncertainty surrounding Holly, but two things she knew for certain, one she was no longer bored and second there was always an exception to every rule. The growing friendship between the two of them would indeed blossom nicely, and perhaps even be that rare friendship her father had warned she wouldn't find.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Hogwarts library was no less amazing the second time she visited than it had been the first unplanned visit.

Perhaps more so down to the fact that she was accompanied by other people to enjoy the amazement of the library.

Despite the fact that she had been hoping to spend some time alone in the library she couldn't complain too much about the company, even if it did put a hold on her real reasons for coming to the library.

"It's...I'm..."

Selwyn chuckled at them, "Speechless, yeah Hogwarts library does that to you. Which is a good thing really since Madam Pince gets irritated with chatterboxes."

"Professor Doge was right when he said Hogwarts had the largest and comprehensive stores of knowledge," Blaise whispered.

"You will find a plan of the layout of the library by Madam Pince's desk; it's well labelled to allow you to locate the section you want. You can also use the index draws if you are looking for something particular, you just need to say what you are looking for and the cards will appear indicating which books contain that subject," Selwyn continued, showing them were the draws stood.

"An example would be, 'Warming Charm'," Selwyn said.

Several draws opened and indexing cards rose out of them to float in front of Selwyn.

"It's not perfect as most things you are searching for will appear in more than one area, but it will at least help you narrow things down. If you are still struggling to find what you are looking for then you can ask Madam Pince, I promise her bark is worse than her bite."

"Oh, one last thing before I leave you to your studying if a book is out of reach on the shelves and the ladders are unavailable, just say the title out loud, and it will move off the shelf for you."

Selwyn winked at them before heading to the West side of the library to do her own studying.

"I don't know where to start," Daphne whispered.

"Well if we start with the ones that are due Monday first, that we haven't done and go from there," Holly suggested.

Besides practising turning a matchstick into a needle Professor McGonagall had given them an 8-inch assignment about the Transfiguration formula along with a detailed explanation on which part of the formula they thought they were struggling with themselves.

Snape had given them 10 inches on the safety precautions one should take while brewing potions and provide examples of when such precautions hadn't been followed.

Holly had finished both her Charms and Magical Theory homework but still had Astronomy, Herbology and History of Magic to finish on top of Transfiguration and Potions.

Not to mention she still needed to practice the practical bit for both Evocation and Transfiguration.

They found a quite free table in the intersection between History of Magic and Herbology, that wasn't too far away from the Potions Section or the Herbology Section.

Gathering a few extra textbooks that would be needed to complete their assignments they set about starting. Holly picked up her Transfiguration book deciding to start on the subject she was struggling most with and began to read through the formula, making notes on a spare piece of parchment at what she considered to be relevant to that particular step. She doubted that Professor McGonagall would appreciate a word for word copy of the textbook.

"What would you put to safely deal with flames?" Daphne asked after a while, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

"Not to touch it," Blaise quipped.

Daphne rolled her eyes at him, "Seriously, I thought you liked Potions."

"Oh I do, but all this concentration is giving me a headache."

Theo snorted loudly, and then looked around sheepishly.

"Long hair and open flames are never a good mix, so for people with long hair, it would need to be tied back appropriately, same with robes actually. In potions they aren't exactly practical as the sleeves hang down off the arms quite a bit," Holly answered, glancing up from her own textbook.

"That sounds like the voice of experience?" Blaise queried, his dark eyes looking at her closely.

"Hair got to close to a candle, there is a reason why I tie it back. Keeps it out of the way and out of my face."

"Practical," Blaise hummed, "if not fashionable."

It was Holly's turn to snort, "Do I look like someone who cares about fashion."

Blaise shook his head with an over exaggerated sigh, as if the very idea pained him, "No!"

"Ignore him; his mother owns her own line of robes along with many other things, so Blaise is always trying to promote it," Daphne explained.

"Ah, I will have to leave the promoting to you and your delicate features Blaise," Holly smiled at him.

Blaise smiled at her, his eyes glistening with amusement. She wasn't sure whether he was serious in regards to her lack of fashion, not that she cared, or whether he was joking around. While well groomed himself like all but a few Slytherin housemates she had seen he didn't come across as someone who was genuinely concerned with the way they looked.

"Dragon hide gloves allows us to remove the cauldron from the flame without being burned ourselves. Even if the flame is extinguished the cauldron retains the heat." He added with a wink thrown her way.

 _Not just a pretty face then._

"It will probably be best if we all use different examples of potion accidents, that way Professor Snape will at the very least know we aren't copying each other," Daphne suggested. "I'm using Helen Marigold and her explosion when she added porcupine quills while the potion was still on the heat."

Holly listened to them in amusement as they bickered between themselves over who was using what example. She still hadn't finished her Transfiguration homework and had yet to start her Potions.

She had explained the formula used in Transfiguration in detail, and she even knew which step she was struggling with, though if she was honest, it was probably more than one step. She was just unsure whether Professor McGonagall would appreciate her honesty in stating she didn't see the point in having a needle when a matchstick was more useful. That thought process was entirely too muggle.

She sighed wearily before trying her best to explain why she was having difficulty willing the needle into shape without actually saying the reason why she was having difficulty.

The hours ticked by as they continued doing their assignments. As Lunch time approached, Blaise and Theo announced that they needed a break and food.

Daphne hesitated a moment glancing in her direction. Holly took the opportunity that had just landed in front of her to get some time alone in the library.

"Go, I just want to finish this essay, and I will join you in the common room."

"Do you want me to save you any food?" Daphne asked.

"Just some fruit please, I will be okay with that until dinner."

Daphne nodded before quickly packing her things up and joined the boys in leaving the library.

Holly watched them go until they were out of sight and sighed in relief. While their company was pleasant, she had intended to come to the library to get some of her own personal projects done and not just homework.

Something she hadn't been able to do when they had joined her.

 _A goal without a plan is just a wish._

An old saying in the Warren that had ensured she had taken the time to plan every step of a heist.

Even the simple pick-pocketing had required more than quick fingers. One had to choose their targets carefully and ensure their exits were clear before ever reaching into the unsuspecting mark's pocket.

Every heist needed a plan.

Now was no different, while she certainly wasn't planning to steal anything, she did need a plan for her next steps.

While living in the Warren, her goal had always been freedom.

Some would perhaps argue she had that now, after all being magical meant freedom. Holly couldn't claim that she didn't have better opportunities available to her and that she had a guaranteed supply of food, warmth, health, shelter and education. That the dangers she had faced on the streets were no longer an issue.

Some she knew would look at her with envy and berate her for even thinking she was worse off than she had been living with the Warren.

And in part, they would be right to.

But Holly knew she wasn't free, not really. Riddle wanted to use her, she didn't know why or for what but he had admitted enough that he had plans for her. The interview with Rita Skeeter had only been the beginning. Some would argue that wasn't so bad, that for the privileged life she now had open to her the sacrifice was worth giving.

She wasn't one of them. Life had been hard in the Warren, but she had been in charge of every choice she had made, every decision that had been the only freedom she had had in a world where her lack of magic had made her worthless.

She had come to accept she had magic had even given in to her curiosity and desire to learn all the magic she could.

She both needed and _wanted_ to learn magic.

She just didn't want to have to pay the price for her to do so.

She didn't want to play muggle champion and placate the crowds. But Riddle had made it clear that Fudge would have her killed if she didn't play along.

She didn't want to dance to Riddle's tune, whatever song that may be.

Holly didn't want to be used by anyone, but from the snippets she had caught everyone was playing a game that she didn't know the rules to. Even first years like Parkinson were trying to remind her and everyone else that she didn't belong here.

She needed a plan and where better to plan than in place filled with the knowledge she desperately needed.

Pushing her homework aside Holly took out a clean piece of parchment.

Writing down a plan was never good practice, and often ended up incriminating oneself, but if she was careful with her wording, then it should appear as nothing more than innocent if someone were to cross paths with it and in truth she needed to keep her thoughts straight.

The only way for her to be free from both Fudge and Riddle was if she left the Empire, which meant sticking to her original plan of reaching America. As a muggle, it meant something different, but as a witch, it meant she would still be able to continue to learn magic but be safely out of the Empire and Riddle's reach.

Carefully choosing her wording, she wrote that she need to find out more about the Empire, and its neighbouring nations and Ministry of Magic's. At a glance, it would look like nothing more than an interest in the Wizarding World.

To reach America, she would need finances. She had been saving money with Jimmy though she doubted he would give it to her now. It meant she had exactly 7 Galleons and 13 Sickles to her name. It wouldn't be enough, not if she were going to survive.

She needed to earn more.

Stealing wasn't an option, not while she was in Hogwarts, the Slytherins were aware she had been a thief which meant she would be the first suspect. Not that she wanted to steal from them you didn't work where you slept after all.

Though it did leave a few options, the first being she could attempt to earn it honestly, by working or finding a way to sell her work. As she was a child, it was hardly likely someone would allow her to work or even be prepared to by her work when there were masters out there with far more experience and skill.

Two she could ask Riddle, for an allowance to buy school things but never use to the full amount. It was risky and the avenue she was reluctant to go down, it put her too much under his control, and she was already under enough of his control as it was.

Three, was risky, more so than perhaps the other two. The Warren had taught her that if an opportunity arose to make quick money on something, then there would be the means there to do so. People had gambled on everything and anything, she didn't doubt that Hogwarts would be the same amongst the students. Especially when it came to duelling competitions between the students and Quidditch matches, Holly just needed to find the right people to talk to and bet on the right people. She didn't want to lose money after all.

None of the options were great, or a sure way. But perhaps if she were to combine the three of them on some level then she would have better success.

She would need to look at the laws regarding working as a child as well as any laws when it came to selling your work. Not that she had anything to sell at the moment, but it was a starting point. She wrote down jobs and careers.

Timeframe. Ideally, Holly wanted it to be done as soon as possible, but she knew it wasn't realistic. Things took time, and she needed to ensure that she had everything she needed before she took the final leap.

Rushing wasn't an option, it left her open to making mistakes.

Her fourth objective was perhaps the easiest to mask but also hardest to achieve. She needed to expand her arsenal, her skill set. The question was where did she begin and how did she mask that she was getting better at magic for no apparent reason.

What she was learning in classes wouldn't suffice, and she couldn't keep disappearing either without a valid reason.

She needed to look at the extra-curricular activities and see if there was something that suited or at the very least something she could use as an excuse to escape a few hours to practice on her own.

Reaching for her book bag, she pulled out her Hogwarts Welcome Pack and flicked through until she found a list of the extra-curricular activities available to the student body.

Holly wasn't sure where to begin.

The choices available surprised her and were extensive.

Ranging from clubs involving their core lessons to brand new areas of magic she hadn't even heard of.

Some were a further advancement of a subject they had only just started learning, like Enchantment where a solid understanding and love for Charms was already expected. Hardly the best choice for a first year that had only been there a week.

Certain activities stated clearly that they were only available to fifth years of above.

Holly was able to rule out the Gobstone Club, chess club and music club straight away but left the art club as a viable option to use so she could practice on her own should the need arise.

She wanted something that would be useful, give her a skill set that would give her the upper hand while also giving the excuse as to why she was getting better at magic.

She wrote down Charms as one possible option. She liked Charms, and it would be useful to learn more outside the class.

She turned to the next page her eyes scanning the list, stopping at the first option she saw.

 _Artificing: - Ask yourself if you are an inventor and innovator? Are you driven by an unyielding thirst to discover the magical secrets of the universe? Are you quick to dive into problem-solving puzzles of magic? Does your pulse race at the possibilities of building new things or do you prefer combat and being a military engineer? Or is the art of architectural engineering your bread and butter? Are you more of an alchemist focusing on potions, poisons and explosives? Or do you specialise in combating and supporting constructs?_

 _Inquisitive and have a desire to prove yourself? Artificing is the art of magical crafting, from the humble Melanokinesis to the renowned Alchemists and everything in between._

 _The first induction will be held on the third Wednesday of September at six thirty._

It sounded intriguing.

And while Holly wouldn't claim she fully understood what the course would offer the wide range of possibilities intrigued her enough to at least attend the first meeting.

She needed to find out more information but was unsure of where she should begin and realising that she had spent more time than she had originally intended on the beginnings of her plan Holly knew she didn't have the time now to search herself.

Holly returned the other textbooks they had taken off the shelves before making her way to the Librarian's desk.

Madam Pince sat like a statue behind her desk at the centre of the Library, as she lovingly moved books from the returned pile to stamp them. She was a striking woman, but not so much for beauty but rather the likening to an underfed vulture. Her skin was like the parchment found in her books. Her cheeks were sunken, and she had a hooked nose. Her brown eyes pivoted in Holly's direction the moment she stepped close to her desk. Irritation clear to see before a look of suspicion crossed her shrivelled face.

"Yes!" the woman said in a harsh whisper.

Holly regretted almost instantly the thought of asking the woman for help.

"I need information on Artificing, but I am uncertain of where to start looking, I wondered if you would be able to point me in the right direction please?"

"Yes, yes," she snapped impatiently, "West side of the library to the left, fifth stack in the south section. Upwards from the seventh row on the bottom. It is clearly labelled, now go and be quiet."

Holly blinked in surprise before finding herself obediently turning and making her way to the West side of the library. She counted the stacks and found the shelves Pince had recommended. They were clearly labelled, and there were far more shelves filled with books on the subject matter than she had originally thought.

Just as she was about to pick the first book off the shelf, she heard a cough and seconds later the shelves began to shake. Holly stepped back just as the first book fell off the shelf and hit the floor, followed by another and then another.

She hesitated for a moment before turning and running through the stacks as more and more books fell off the shelves.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" Pince's shout could be heard as she approached the commotion. Holly ducked down an aisle of bookshelves to avoid bumping into the woman and being blamed for the mess behind her.

The woman's scream cut across the silence of the library.

Holly didn't stop running until she had reached the secret entrance on the East side where she finally stopped a moment to take a breath.

Pince's screams still echoed loudly.

Not that Holly was really focusing on the woman's screams. As her heart pounded in her chest, she couldn't help but feel that the books falling hadn't been a random accident.

She couldn't be positive, but a cough had sounded suspiciously like a cover for a whispered incantation of a spell.

If that was the case and the books falling had been intentional was it also possible that it was more than a simple prank and had been to cause harm.

It left the unanswered questions of who and why?

Holly may not know the answers but whether she had been the intended target of a prank or something more sinister it brought one thing to mind. She needed to be on guard.

Holly slipped through the entrance of the secret passage. She couldn't be positive whether Pince knew who she was, but she wanted to avoid blame falling on her if she could help it.

* * *

At seven o'clock Holly found herself on the second floor standing in front of two entwined silver serpents.

Riddle had sent her a message that morning with a reminded of their scheduled meeting that evening and a cryptic message that Holly could only presume was a way to gain entrance to his office.

 _Open in the tongue of serpents._

Holly didn't have a clue what that meant nor did she have a clue how to get into Riddle's office.

"Open," she said hoping that it would at the very least be that straight forward.

Nothing happened, not even a twitch.

"Damn it," she muttered. She had no idea what she was going to do now.

She stared at the serpents hoping that they would reveal some clue as to how she was to gain entry.

Emeralds glistened like eyes, and for a second she felt almost lost in them. They glowed in the lights of the corridor.

 _"Open!"_ she hissed.

The snakes rippled like scales before sliding away to reveal a spiral staircase.

Holly blinked in surprise. She had no idea what she had done differently compared to the first time, but it had worked, and in truth, she wasn't going to question it too much. Not wasting a second longer Holly ascended the stairs until she came to the top.

She pushed the door open and entered a circular room.

There was a large fireplace carved into one side of the chamber, a large comfortable looking dark leather armchair could be found either side of the fireplace with a small matching couch, surrounding a dark wooden round coffee table. It looked comfy, homey even and Holly could almost picture Riddle taking the time to sit in one of the chairs reading a book. It made him seem human, something she had rarely seen back in the Manor.

Directly opposite the door was a large wooden desk framed by rich, dark red wooden bookshelves. Bookshelves that rose high above filled with numerous texts in leather or cloth bindings; the names on the spines Holly couldn't see clearly. A staircase leading upwards to another level fitted around the bookcases.

The chair that Riddle sat in was high backed and regal looking almost like the man sitting in it.

"Miss Black, I am glad to see you are punctual, and that you were able to gain entry," Riddle said as he glanced up from what he was looking at.

Holly snorted, "Could you be any more cryptic?"

"You gained entry did you not?" he asked with a smirk.

"Just," she muttered. "What did you mean by open in the tongue of the serpents?"

"Parseltongue is the language of the serpents. You have the ability to speak it," he answered, almost as if he was bored with the discussion.

"How can I speak a different language without even realising?" she said in disbelief.

"It is an innate ability. You are a natural Parslemouth; it was how you were able to hear Nagini."

"And you are only just telling me this now?" she accused, throwing him a glare.

He chuckled, "I do believe other things were more of a priority Snow. And besides, I am telling you now."

"That's unbelievable," she sighed with frustration.

"That is life. Nothing is for free; if you do not question it yourself don't expect other people to tell you," he chided, shrugging slightly.

"Yeah, I'm getting that impression," she muttered before taking a seat opposite him.

Now that she was closer she could see various gadgets on his desk that looked interesting and peculiar. She wouldn't be able to say what half of their functions were but Holly had no doubt that they held some function. Papers scattered across, the table making no sense at first glance, not that he actually gave her a chance to study them. With a wave of his wand, they vanished from sight.

"How are you finding Hogwarts?"

The question caught her by surprise and she only just managed to swallow the snort like sound that was attempting to escape. _Has he really asked me up here to see how my week has gone?_

"Are you really asking me how my week went?" she asked suspiciously.

"Is that not allowed?" he asked, amusement clearly shining in his eyes, "after all I did spend nine weeks preparing you for Hogwarts." He was mocking her, she knew it. She could tell by his smirk.

"I like it so far," she answered after a moment's hesitation, "I can't say it was what I was expecting."

"Hogwarts does have a way of taking you by surprise," he muttered in agreement, though Holly doubted she was supposed to have heard really.

"Your housemates?"

"It's taking some time getting used to being around so many people, but they seem nice enough," she admitted.

Riddle's lips twitched ever so slightly, "Nice is not a word many would use to describe Slytherins. I have noticed you are on speaking terms with a few Heirs. It would do well to strengthen those ties now. You never know when you need a well-placed alley."

This time the snort did escape her, "Really! You can't just say make friends with them? You have to word it so...clinically."

He raised an eyebrow at her, "would you prefer I use the word friend?"

"No," she answered with a shake of her head, "I would prefer you to simply say what you mean."

"I was under the impression that I was."

Holly rolled her eyes at him, throwing him a look 'really', before tucking her feet underneath her.

"Slytherins chose their words carefully, Snow. A friend isn't a term used lightly, and even then it rarely voiced out loud even if the term applies. Everyone knows that affection for others can be exploited. Form allies, you at least know where you stand."

"I know. I'm not looking for friends. Nothing good ever comes from it," Holly knew the bitterness had crept into her voice no matter how much she had attempted to hide it.

Thankfully Riddle didn't say anything, just continued looking at her intently. Holly wasn't sure what was worse, the silent look or if he had said something.

"How are you finding your lessons?"

The jump in conversation surprised her, but she was grateful for the change of subject if nothing else. She didn't want to deal with the possibility she was lying over the fact she wasn't looking for friends. In fact, she wanted to lock the whole idea firmly into the dark box where she kept everything else she didn't want to think about or talk about.

"I believe that they are going well. There is so much to learn, and it's only the first week."

"McGonagall has mentioned to your Head of House that you are struggling with transfiguring a matchstick into a needle," he stated.

Holly didn't see the point in lying when he apparently already knew the answer.

"I am struggling with willing the needle to life when I don't see the point of a needle."

"There is no sense to the needle Snow, not physically. A needle is useless to us in a physical sense, but the transfiguring of a matchstick into a needle has a point," he said firmly, clearly stating there was no room for arguing, "The needle is the first step to being able to transfigure objects. Accomplish that, and you can perform the next task set for you."

"Think of it as nothing more than a stepping stone." He continued.

"And if I can't?"

"Then you will achieve nothing, I did not see you as someone who was weak Snow."

Holly knew what he was doing. Trying to rattle her cage so she would rise to the bite. She really didn't want to give him the satisfaction of winning, but she also wanted to prove more than anything she was anything but weak. Instead, she settled for throwing him a glare and biting her tongue. She didn't want to push his buttons too much tonight, not when she intended to ask for a small amount of help.

"Have you considered any extra-curricular activities?" he asked.

She shrugged, "a few."

"Snow, do not test my patience," he warned.

She could hear the icy tension in his voice. Could feel the prickle of magic crossing her skin. Holly didn't doubt she was testing his patience, she seemed to do that without even trying really, but she doubted she was the only thing responsible for his lack of patience. Perhaps his first week had been equally challenging.

"I'm interested in Charms; I think the opportunity to learn more outside of the class would be interesting."

"Charms?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. She noticed he did that a lot this evening, "I am surprised and somewhat disappointed. Of all the extra-curricular activities we offer you only pick Charms."

Holly looked at the floor for a second, before looking back up to meet his eyes with her own, schooling her features into a sheepish look. She wouldn't say she was manipulating him, that would be suicidal, but Hooly wanted to at least come across that she was more interested in Artificing but concerned about the costs.

"Well, no. Charms wasn't the only subject to catch my eye. Artificing sounds fascinating, but I don't think I will be able to afford the supplies required."

Riddle laughed. Loudly.

"Well played Snow, well played," he said, "I suppose I have you to thank for the hours screaming of a hysterical librarian."

She blinked in surprise before blurting out, "that wasn't me!"

"Care to elaborate?"

"I just went to the shelves, hadn't even picked up a book before they all started falling."

"Your name wasn't mentioned, so I think you are safe from her wrath for the time being, but do avoid any more accidents in the library, or I might have to kill Pince before she has the chance to scream."

He paused for a moment, staring at her attentively. Almost as if he was thinking through his next move carefully.

"I will make you a deal Snow," Riddle said calmly.

"What kind of deal?" she quizzed, feeling her stomach turn. She should have known this was going to easy.

"I will give you an allowance of five Galleons a month to allow you to buy the supplies you need for both school and Artificing. If more is required, we can discuss that further. If you also study one extra-curricular activity of _my_ choosing."

"What extra-curricular activity?" Holly asked slowly, nibbling on her bottom lip.

"No. I want agreement first," Riddle answered. His tone had gone considerably cold.

She hesitated. Warning bells going off. She could say no, not learn Artificing and find another way to get the skills and knowledge that would be useful to her, as well as needing to find another way to gain money or she could take the risk and say yes. Hope that it wouldn't be too awful and calm herself with the fact that she wouldn't be at Hogwarts for long. Not seeing that she had any other choice she agreed.

"Yes."

Riddle smirked triumphantly at her, "We will discuss the extra-curricular activity next week then."

"You aren't going to tell me!" she exclaimed.

"No. I do believe we have run over considerably this evening. And it does seem as if we have distracted ourselves and not actually discussed the reason you were here in the first place. It will simply have to wait until Wednesday evening."

He smiled at her, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"Seven o'clock Snow, and do try to keep the nighttime wanderings to a minimum between now and then," he paused, "I do expect to hear about an improvement in Transfiguration soon."

Holly stared at him in disbelief. Damn it what the hell had she agreed to. _Tricky bastard._

Swallowing her pride and the insult that was burning to be thrown his way she stood up, settling on throwing him a dirty look before turning on her heels and leaving his office.

She was proud of herself that she didn't slam the door shut behind her. Holly didn't want to think what his reaction would have been if she had.

Wearily she sighed.

Well, she had managed to get some money from him, which was a step in the right direction if nothing else. And while the idea that she had sold her soul to gain it might be slightly overdramatic she supposed she really should have known better than to try and outmanoeuvre Riddle. Not when he had clearly stated nothing in life was for free.

She should have known better.

 _Don't worry about it. It is done, you agreed to it; you will simply have to face what he throws at you with your head held high, and hope he doesn't see through your guise._

Riddle had said he wanted something from her; she had no doubt that this was just a step in his grand plan. She would just have to pick her battles wisely.

Holly descended the stairs away from Riddle's office hoping that Artificing was actually worth it and she would learn something useful and valuable. Otherwise, she had royally screwed herself over.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Tom watched Snow leave grateful she hadn't slammed the door shut behind her. Her anger wasn't hard to miss, not that she had even attempted to hide it.

She had surprised him with her interest in Artificing; he hadn't expected her to really have looked at anything without him pushing her into it. An interesting branch of magic that could provide a useful skill set. He would allow her to pursue it for the time being, and either she would give up herself, or she would actually learn something.

Not to mention it gave him an extra set of eyes on Doge.

It also gave him a barging chip.

Snow had agreed to allow him to pick one extra-curricular activity for her to learn.

He knew exactly what activity it was going to be.

He just needed to show patience. It was a delicate process introducing someone to the true power the Dark Arts had to offer especially to one as young as eleven.

It was why they waited until the second year at the very least before introducing it in the main classes. It wasn't that the subject was evil, though there were still some that believed it was the Dark was an equally essential part of magic as much as the Light was. It was, however, more wild, untameable, destructive and if handled incorrectly strained the body much quicker than other magics.

All magic had a price after all.

No, he would give her a taste, a small taste, allow her to see the real power magic had to offer and she would do the rest on her own.

* * *

XXX

* * *

A.N: I have used a quote by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry in this chapter, which I do not own.


	14. Chapter 14

Thank you to everyone who has read the story, reviewed, added to favourites and alerts. I apologise for the delay, but due to several migraines over the last few weeks I have had very little energy to stare at a computer and write, no matter how much I may love to do so.

Thank you for your continued support and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Chapter 13: - **Artificing**

Laughter drew his eye as he appeared in the alley.

A couple huddled together. Too caught up in each other to pay any attention to their surroundings let alone him. It was easy to slip past them, his magic wrapped around him tightly ensured that even if they had been, they wouldn't see him anyway.

The Imperial City.

Built on the foundations of a city that had been destroyed it had grown and expanded within the last thirty years beyond what it had once been.

Tom hated the Imperial City. He hated the newness, hated the artificial scent it carried. Despite being the only city in the world to made purely by magic, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Almost as if it was tainted, by the destruction of its creation.

Grindelwald had wanted to create a masterpiece. In the images of the cities of old, that were lost to them now, where magic had once been practised freely. Instead, he had created something twisted and alien that words couldn't describe.

There was a wrongness in the city, and Tom wasn't one to allow his emotions to judge his opinions. Even the residents were wrong, strange, and alien here.

Ignoring the feeling, Tom stepped out of the shadows and down the street until he reached a corner house that consisted of six stories high and stretched down both streets.

Tom swung through the front door of Peitho Box, ignoring the brawny red-coated doorman who stepped back at his entrance, before continuing through the marble-floored entryway.

Within seconds of his arrival, a door marked 'Private' snapped open, and a voluptuous middle-aged woman hurried out, her eyes widened at the sight of his silver mask. While not many would recognise it, Gertrude knew it well enough.

"My Lord," she said, her head bowed in greeting, "he's in the usual room."

Tom nodded his head once in acknowledgment before stepping through a set of double doors into the main gathering area of the house. The moment he entered his senses were overwhelmed by the smell of sex, alcohol and other fragrances that turned his stomach.

Peitho Box, every city had one, but none as infamous as this one. Nestled neatly into the foundations of the Imperial City it offered a wide variety of pleasures for those who came to seek them. It was often joked that if Peitho Box didn't offer it, then it was a pleasure that didn't exist. As his sharp eyes scanned the room, he could see several couples participating in sexual acts, not caring in the slightest that others were bearing witness. But then Peitho Box was all about letting one's inhibitions go.

He continued through the central area, ignoring all as he passed. Here Tom had anonymity, only Gertrude knew who he was, and she knew better than to say.

Peitho Box was like a maze of hidden rooms, past the central area was a small private dining room, a library and so much more. He ignored them all, heading towards the stairs and up.

' _The usual room'_ was located on the sixth floor of the house. Though if truth be told it consisted of the entirety of the sixth floor. Without knocking he entered the room. Directly opposite the door was a large red velvet couch that could easily fit several people on it.

In fact, there were several people on it. Several naked people writhing against each other like animals. The moans left little to the imagination and more than he had any desire to see.

"Leave!" he ordered putting his magic into the weight of the word, letting it rip through them with no gentleness.

The moans turned to yelps as several people shot up at once, grabbing the nearest clothing to them and fleeing past him.

"You are such a killjoy," a voice muttered.

Tom turned to the sound; sitting in a red love chair was a dark haired man, though he used that term loosely, dressed in a white shirt that was half open and black trousers. A glass of wine in one hand.

"I would understand if you participated, but you do not."

The man snorted in disgust, "Rut like the animals, I couldn't imagine anything worse."

"And yet you take great pleasure in watching," Tom smirked, as he moved to the bar to pour himself a drink.

"There is something oddly fascinating watching other people pursue their desires to the extremes. Letting them indulge and forget themselves, before taking it away," he paused, giving a shrug, "besides they are more likely to give away their secrets in the grips of passion."

"They do that when you participate as well, better even. It is you, they desire and you that you take away from them. Addiction in one of its purest forms," Tom answered.

The other man threw back his head and laughed, "Oh how we have changed."

"I prefer the term adapt, and besides it has its own equal benefits."

"I doubt you arranged this meeting to talk about the benefits of sex or even to indulge in a bit of voyeur, no matter how entertaining it might be."

Tom sipped his drink.

"We have a problem. I need to know how big of a problem it is."

"Sounds ominous. And by 'we' you mean you. I have never known you to care about _my_ problems, despite that fact that _my_ problems are _your_ problems," the man hissed.

Tom raised an eyebrow, giving a warning look. Not that the other man noticed. If it had been anyone else, he would have cursed him for his insolence or killed him. _And wouldn't that solve more than one problem?_

However, he checked his anger sipped his drink and waited until the temper tantrum had passed. He couldn't dispose of him yet. He needed eyes and ears in the Imperial City.

"Clearly you are concerned, or you wouldn't have risked coming here. You know the old man would sense you in the city."

"Grindelwald is currently in his Black Tower and not in the palace."

The other man smirked at him, for a split second Tom felt as if he was looking in a mirror but quickly shook the thought away. They were nothing alike.

"And what is to stop me from reporting back to him, I do after all have to be _obedient!"_

The last word had been spat out, and it drew Tom's eyes to the man's neck almost instantly, the silver choker fastened firmly in place. A reminder for them both of their servitude. He hated it.

"Because you are not suicidal," Tom replied with a raised eyebrow, "Are you finished with this dance. We have it every time, and the end result is always the same."

A look of hatred was thrown his way before a mask smoothly fixed into a place.

"And what is the problem?"

"Montague is whispering in Fudge's ear that the attack at the arena is an inside job, a high up inside job."

A laugh filled the room, "Oh someone is a naughty boy, aren't they. How delightful!"

"Is he whispering in Grindelwald's ear?"

"Grindelwald doesn't trust you not to seek your own end game; it was why he gave you the school in the first place wasn't it. Keep you out of the way from the Game. But no, to my knowledge Montague is not whispering in the old man's ear."

"Were you involved in the attack?"

"My, Tom, I'm insulted you would think such a thing, after all, I live to serve." The other man chuckled.

Tom stared at him. He didn't believe him for a second. In fact, he knew him better than he knew himself. It was exactly the move he would make if the opportunity presented itself and he would benefit from the rewards.

The man sighed, "I am unaware of where the vault is. And even if I did. You are my only contact outside this city, brother dearest." He smiled.

Tom didn't answer, he hated that term, and the man knew it.

Instead, he took control of the conversation and turned it in a new direction.

"How is she?"

"Dying. It will be any day in my opinion."

"Has she given any indication of her successor?"

"That's not how it works, the Pythia only see their successor with their dying breath. If the old man doesn't hear it and she passes, well then..."

"It means he is blind for the first time in fifty years."

"Of course, he has a guard with her at all times in the hope that they catch the name. There are only a few short moments as they change that she is on her own."

Tom felt his mind spinning at the possibilities. One wrong slip here and everything would be ruined, but if he could gain the name for the successor and have them firmly on his side, then he would have a higher advantage at succeeding in his plans.

"Can her passing be helped along?"

"My sentiments exactly. Stubborn bitch would probably welcome it as well. Of course, I would need to give the old man something to satisfy his questions."

"A general area would suffice, provided no names were given," Tom answered.

"What are you going to do about Montague?"

"For now, let him lengthen the rope that will hang him. Provided it is only Fudge that he is whispering to then I can deal with him."

"If that is all you have need of me for then I will retire."

Tom shot him a warning look, "remember who your loyalty is to."

"To myself of cause," the other man laughed, "but if that was you trying to be discreet in telling me to keep my eyes and ears to the ground then consider it done."

He sighed, "Now I really must insist I continue with my night-time plans, it has been some time since I have been allowed any kind of fun."

Tom didn't respond. He had the information he needed. Montague whispers were only in Fudge's ear, problematic certainly but not a catastrophe. Without even as much as a glance in the other man's direction, Tom apparated away. Back to his Manor where he would be able to floo to his office in Hogwarts, ensuring there was no trail to follow in where he had been.

He hated dealing with _him_ , hated the reminder of his younger days where youth and lack of experience had cost him dearly, and mistakes had been made that had torn him apart.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Monday evening Holly found herself standing outside Professor Snape's office with a sense of anticipation. The older years had pre-warned them that their Head of House had regular meetings with his students to ensure that there were no significant concerns and that they were, in fact, pursuing their chosen path.

Holly wasn't exactly sure how anything that had happened in their first week would be a cause for concern but had kept that particular opinion to herself as she made her way to his office. Clearly being a Black meant she was going to be amongst the first lot of children in most things.

Holly knocked gently, but firmly on the office door and turned the door handle as soon as she heard the 'Enter' from within. Professor Snape's office was a sparse room, hardly decorated except for the shelves that lined the wall holding a variety of Potion ingredients that Holly couldn't even begin to name.

Seated behind his desk, Professor Snape was busy scratching away on a piece of parchment ignoring her entirely, content in letting her wait until he was ready to give her his attention.

It was slightly intimidating, no one would accuse the man of being friendly, and while she had perhaps gotten off lightly in his classroom, there were no distractions in his office. Nothing that would deter him from giving her his full attention... _when he was ready._

As if he could read her thoughts he looked up at her.

His dark eyes fixing her with a stare.

His mouth pressed into an even thinner line than usual.

"Sit!"

Holly scrambled to one of the chairs opposite him and sat down, praying that she hadn't at the very least given away how uneasy the man made her. It wasn't that she was afraid of him, but he wasn't exactly the most reassuring Professor, and the intensity of his stare made her want to shy away when it was directed her way.

"As your Head of House, it is my duty to assist you in furthering the ambitions that secured your place in the Slytherin House," he paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before continuing, "For the next seven years your goals are my goals. Your dreams, plans and schemes will become my own motivations, and as long as you are a member of the Slytherin House, I pledge to assist you in realising all your endeavours."

"It is also my duty to discuss any concerns or issues that you may be experiencing while in this halls. I do not allow Slytherin students to fail, nor do I allow them to slack," he continued, giving her the full weight of his black eyes. For a split second, Holly could almost feel her falling into their depths, and feeling the coldness sink into her.

She blinked, breaking the contact and shifted ever so slightly in her chair, ensuring that it looked as if she was getting more comfortable than her being uncomfortable.

"Tell me, Miss Black, are there any concerns you have now you have had your first week?"

"No, Sir," she answered.

"No problems in class?" he asked, his eyebrow rising ever so slightly.

"No, Sir."

"Professor McGonagall has mentioned you are struggling with a partial transfiguration of a matchstick into a needle, however as it is only the first week she is not too concerned...at the moment. I trust you will put your very best effort into rectifying this."

"Yes, Sir," Holly answered, though she couldn't help but hear the warning that wasn't being voiced. It was only her first week, and perhaps they were right to be concerned, but she doubted she was the only student to not be able to do a partial transfiguration by the end of class.

"Very well, as there does not seem to be any pressing concerns we shall focus on what your ambitions on Miss Black, what goals are you working towards?"

 _Freedom?_ Instead, Holly shrugged, choosing not to voice that particular dream. She doubted Professor Snape would appreciate it, nor give her the help she needed.

"You have no goals you are working towards?"

"I would like to join Artificing as an extra-curricular activity," she replied. It wasn't precisely a lifetime goal, but it was something, and she had a feeling it would stop Snape from pressing too much into her goals.

Snape smirked ever so slightly, "Artificing is a demanding art and much like Potions one you will give far more than you will get out of."

Holly shrugged, "I like the idea of creating something."

Snape looked at her. Too closely, as if he was looking for something in particular. Holly couldn't say if he found what he was looking for, or if he found anything at all but despite the fact, his face gave nothing away as to his thoughts it softened ever so slightly, barely noticeable except she was looking for some sign of what he was going to do next.

"I trust that if you were to join Artificing, you would at the very least give your full effort into studying it, at least until you determine whether it is the path you wish to walk down?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Very well. I will see that your name is added to the list with Professor Doge."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Now if you have nothing pressing Miss Black, I bid you goodnight."

"Goodnight, Sir," Holly answered before moving from her seat and taking her leave. It hadn't been as terrible as she had thought it was going to be, but she couldn't help but think there was something under the surface to Snape. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Not that it mattered. She had successfully managed to put her name down for Artificing, which was a step in the right direction, now she just needed to learn as much as she could.

* * *

"Settle down class, settle down," Professor McGonagall said sternly as they entered the Transfiguration class Tuesday morning.

"Matchsticks are already on the desks I expect you to have practised over the weekend and I fully expect to see a partial transfiguration into a needle if not a full transfiguration by the end of the lesson. Failure to do so will result in detention."

Inwardly Holly groaned, while others seemed to do so out loud.

"If you have failed to put effort into practicing then you must suffer the consequences," McGonagall warned, silencing any mutters on unfairness. A gentle reminder that Hogwarts would not accept anything less than the best.

Holly took her seat next to Daphne and glared accusingly at the matchstick lying in front of her.

Riddle had said it was the first step in Transfiguration, if she could accomplish it, then she would be able to accomplish other Transfigurations.

She needed to stop thinking of the objects themselves and think of it as a stepping stone. If she could do this, then she was stepping in the right direction in mastering Transfiguration. Oh, she knew it would be a long journey to master the subject in general, but the first step towards it was in front of her defiantly lying there on the table.

She would not let a matchstick defeat her.

Holly mentally ran through each step of the formula, she knew it by heart, just as she knew the correct incantation and wand movement. She knew were her weakness was the weak link in the chain that prevented a successful Transfiguration.

Her _Will_.

She could visualise the needle clearly in her mind, could incant the spell in her sleep... _or at least it felt like that._ She could feel the magic running through her waiting to be used. She just needed to will it to life, to let the needle take shape while still holding onto that perfect image of a needle.

She wasn't going to fight it.

She wasn't going to overthink.

She was going to let it happen.

Holly was aware that McGonagall was making her way towards her, testing each student, in turn, praising students that were successful in the full transfiguration and encouraging those that had partially created a needle.

Until she finally stopped in front of her.

"You're next Miss Black."

Holly swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat before taking a breath and saying the incantation, waving her wand in the movement needed. The matchstick stayed a matchstick.

 _Don't panic. Don't panic. All magic is useful. This is the first step to mastering Transfiguration, so it is useful. Stop over thinking, let the magic flow through you and will the needle to life._

Professor McGonagall frowned slightly, "try Miss Black again, and remember to focus your intent.

Holly nodded, showing that she had at least understood, before taking the time she needed to calm the panic that was fluttering through her.

 _I can do this. I can do this. You will change the match. You will change._

She took another deep breath, mentally listing the uses of a needle that _she_ should at least find useful, bringing the mental image of a needle to the forepart of her mind.

 _They were small, easily concealed and if a little larger than a sewing needle could be used as a weapon. You could stab someone in the eye with one._

She cast the incantation, waved her wand confidentially and _Willed_ the magic to shape and change the match into a needle. She pushed all doubt from her, focused on the thrumming of her magic and knew she would succeed.

Her matchstick vibrated slightly on the desk as it wavered, rippled, then all at once it was no longer a matchstick but a pointy, shiny silver needle.

She had done it, she had actually done it.

Holly couldn't stop the smile that escaped her. Professor McGonagall picked up the needle and examined it carefully, her lips twitching ever so slightly into a smile.

"Well done Miss Black on a successful Transfiguration."

Professor McGonagall placed the needle on the desk and moved onto the next student.

"Well done, Holly knew you could do it," Daphne whispered to her when she had completed her own transfiguration.

"Thank you, well done on yours."

Daphne smirked at her slightly, "was there any doubt."

Holly laughed quietly, careful not to make too much noise and distract any of the other students.

"I guess not."

By the end of the lesson, every student had successfully changed their matchstick into a needle, either partially or entirely.

* * *

Holly wasn't surprised as the days bled into one and before she even knew it, the evening of the first Artificing meeting had arrived.

As the only Slytherin having picked the club, she made her way on her own to the third floor after grabbing a bite to eat at dinner.

Holly had been surprised to discover from Professor Snape that Professor Doge would be leading the club; she wasn't sure what to fully make of the man.

Despite arriving ten minutes early, she still wasn't the first to arrive. Four pairs of eyes turned to face her as soon as she entered the room. Holly only recognised Doge among them, but from the matching tie of a brown haired girl, there was at least one other Gryffindor attending.

The two boys were Ravenclaws, not that she was surprised to find members of the house of intelligence in the club. She nodded once in acknowledgement to them which they returned before stepping further into the room.

It was different from the standard classroom, resembling more their Potions class with individual workstations. Holly headed to the one furthest from the door, but still in the perfect position to see the classroom around her. She pulled out her parchment, ink and book and sat patiently waiting for six-thirty.

She had no idea what to expect.

As the minutes ticked down, four other students joined them. Three Hufflepuffs two boys and one girl, and a Ravenclaw girl with dark brown hair and dark skin brought up the rear.

Holly noted that as the Ravenclaw girl took her seat that all of the workstations had been claimed, leaving no room for anyone else to join. Precisely at six-thirty Professor Doge walked into the classroom, wearing a dark red robe and a box of trinkets floating behind him.

He paid them no mind as he took his place at the front of the classroom and carefully pulled out a variety of objects, carefully placing them on the desk. When it appeared the box was empty, he turned to face them with a smile that almost seemed friendly, but not quite.

"Each and every one of you is curious. You have an artistic nature that cannot be ignored. It is the reason you find yourself in this very room, why you ventured into the unknown and joined this club," he began with a wave of his hands, "I can tell you all now, that Artificers are united by their curiosity and inventive despite their many differences. Each one of you is united by this drive that extends beyond the houses you belong in."

He continued, "What is Artificing? Artificing is a term used to coin together the Crafting Arts of magic. To be an Artificer is to be a skilled craftsman, an inventor. They are the practical technicians of our world. Artificers are essential to keeping magical societies running."

He paused, glancing around at each of them.

"People may scoff at Artificing and see it as a weak area of magic to learn, but I assure you it is not for the faint-hearted. Today there are nine of you, by Christmas, there will be less."

"Within this room, you will take your first steps onto the path of an Artificer. I will teach you to recognise the patterns of magic, in crafted and raw materials and to use your own magic to pull it out in a fantastic way," his whispered words caught her attention and brought Holly to the edge of her seat. "We will be studying the crafting of everyday items as something magical and infusing parts of you into those crafted objects to create magical objects."

"I will show you how a tunic can become a suit of armour, a cloak a sturdy shield, and gloves that provide the strength of a giant. Despite what many would believe, the skills you learn here can be used on the battlefield."

He laughed at them with a sweep of his arms, "I can see the doubt in your faces. Allow me to demonstrate just some of the possibilities available to you through mastering Artificing."

He reached for the first item on his desk, a simple arm bracelet that spiralled around four times.

"Inconspicuous and decorative, would hardly be considered dangerous. And yet..." Doge paused, whispering an incantation too quick for Holly to catch. The bracelet glowed before uncurling itself until it was a glowing silver whip.

"It can be used to incapacity, cut through objects or just restrain someone."

Doge whispered another incantation, and the whip returned to a bracelet. He moved next to a small wooden box.

"Tell me Mr Cornfoot, what would you take to help you sleep if you were suffering from severe nightmares?"

The black haired Hufflepuff boy, with a large pointy nose, sat up straighter as Doge addressed him.

"Dreamless Sleep Potion," he answered in a tone that could only be described as snotty.

"Correct. Now it is advised that the Potion should only be admitted to eleven years old and upwards, and even then the dose is considerably less compared to an adult. This presents a problem for children who suffer from nightmares that are younger than eleven," Doge paused, studying each of them carefully, "a problem that an Artificer found the solution for."

The Professor opened the box, seconds later, soft music began to play. A music box. Simple and yet...

Holly could feel her eyes growing heavy, her whole body felt tired. She fought a yawn, but it escaped her. The more she listened to the music, music that seemed so haunting and sad and beautiful, and...tiring. She felt so exhausted. Her eyes were closing...

The box was snapped shut.

Holly blinked several times, clearing the tiredness that had overcome her. By the looks of it, she wasn't the only one, and all of them looked shaken.

 _What the hell?_

Professor Doge chuckled at them.

"The Hypnos Box is used by many parents. Imbued with a Dreamless Potion, and released with the magic of the music it allows many children who suffer from nightmares to get restful sleep without actually taking the potion. It also can be used against enemies; after all, all of you succumbed to it."

"Artificing is not an easy subject to learn, it is an area of magic that will make you bleed, and yet the rewards will speak for themselves. It is an area of magic that combines magic as a whole, will make you see magic as a whole. Struggle in one, and you struggle in all of them," He warned them, "It also has its dangers. It is experimental, inventive and one false move can result in death."

"Only when I feel each of you is ready will I allow you to participate in your own creations and projects. Until then you will learn the essential tools of an Artificer. Now shall we begin?"

Professor Doge proceeded to talk them through the method of sensing magic and have them practice.

Holly had to run through several tests before Professor Doge was satisfied that she could detect magic to _his_ standard. He then set her the task of examining several items, sensing their magic and noting the difference between each piece she tested.

While not the most motivating of tasks, it gave her something to do while he worked with the other students. Holly wasn't surprised to find the ward of Doge joined her at the back of the classroom.

A small sliver of guilt stirred at her own dismissive referral of the other girl, but she had no idea what her name actually was and referring to them both as Doge was confusing.

They worked on opposite sides of the table, silent except for the sound of their quills scratching on the parchment as they each made their notes.

Holly wouldn't say it was uncomfortable, but she could feel a razor sharp presence radiating from the other girl that was anything but friendly. Other than their encounters with each other in their shared classes she hadn't seen the other girl since the incident in the Potions lab in their first week.

Refusing to allow it to bother her or even waste time caring, Holly focused on the task at hand. Testing each item she picked up and writing down what she was sensing, seeing and noting any differences.

Holly put down the plant she had been holding and wrote down what she had sensed from it. Magic had felt warm, buzzing with energy that she could only determine as 'life', though she doubted that made any kind of sense. But compared to the pot it was in which was like a blank slate of nothingness it was the best she had.

She moved to pick the next object up; a wooden box that was similar to the one _Professor_ Doge had used to show them the type of things they would be able to create. He had assured her that it was not another Hypnos Box, however. Taking a breath, she opened her sense to the bit that could _see_ magic and frowned. It was there as it had been with the plant, glowing in a pattern, but rather than energy that had been flowing and moving like a stream, it remained static.

 _What is the difference?_

Plants she supposed were living things and while the wood used to make the box had been a part of a tree that had once been living it was no longer...alive. Or maybe it was, and she just wasn't sensing it in the right way.

Subconsciously Holly poked at it. Her own magic uncurling like a curious animal to give it a sniff. She wasn't quite sure what she was doing, just _feeling_ out. The box had magic, but what magic and why was it so different from the magic she had felt in the plant.

Unless...unless the plant's magic had been its own natural magic and the magic in the box wasn't. The magic was an enchantment a spell that had been placed on it. Artificial from its own natural magic.

But that still didn't sound right. Riddle had said people argued that magic was a natural force of the world so wouldn't that mean all magic felt 'alive'.

Holly frowned, it didn't add up and left her with questions she wasn't sure she would ever get the answers to. The box held some magic to it, but it felt different, and she couldn't determine why. She poked at it.

The patterns glowed a little brighter before her eyes as her own magic came into contact with it.

"What do you think you are doing?"

Holly blinked in surprise at the sound of Doge's voice, or rather the ward, and looked at the girl who was staring daggers at her.

"Sensing magic," she answered, with a shrug.

"No you're not, you're doing something else. I can feel your magic crawling across my skin. Professor Doge said we were only meant to _sense_ not do anything else!" the girl snapped waspishly.

"I wasn't aware I was doing anything but sensing magic."

Partially true she supposed after all touch was one of the senses.

"That just makes it worse. Professor Doge said Artificing was dangerous. What if you had triggered something with you pushing uncontrolled magic all over the place?"

"I wasn't pushing magic all over the place," Holly argued.

"Typical Slytherin," the other girl muttered, "Arrogant in your own abilities because your parents can avoid private tutors."

"I'm sorry; I think you have me confused with someone else. Last time I checked I hadn't had private tutors or parents now that you mention it," Holly sniped.

"But you didn't have to go through rigorous testing to earn your place here. Your family name ensured you were accepted," the other girl hissed bitterly, "And you had _tutoring_ from the Headmaster."

Holly paused for a moment, biting back the response that was on the tip of her tongue as her own irritation bubbled away. Looking at it from the other girl's point of view it didn't seem fair that she had to be tested because she was an orphan to gain sponsorship to enter the school and yet, Holly hadn't. Holly couldn't say whether that was because of the discovery that she was a Black or because of Riddle's own plans for her. Neither possibility sat well with her, but nor was Holly to blame. Holly would gladly swap places with the girl but she couldn't. She hadn't written the rules for the school and this crazy world they all lived in either, hell she hardly knew the rules.

"You gained your sponsorship, you are Professor Doge's ward, and surely you have received 'private tutoring', as you call it from him."

"I've worked for my place. It wasn't handed to me." The other girl snapped.

 _It's not worth it,_ the voice argued.

Holly agreed and was more than grateful that she was saved from having to respond because Professor Doge took that moment to address them all.

"Right students that is all for this evening. All of you practice your sensing magic and noting down what you feel and discover. We will discuss the differences that you find from object to object, and we can go from there."

Holly quickly packed her notes and ink set up before heading to the door and away from both Doge's. The last thing she needed was a continuation of the conversation. One thing though that had become very clear to her, Doge didn't like the idea that she had tutored with the Headmaster over the summer. Whether that would make her dangerous Holly couldn't say, but it certainly meant she needed to keep an eye on her and avoid her when possible.

Despite the altercation with Doge, Artificing had been fascinating, and something Holly couldn't wait to get really stuck into. Her imagination was running wild of the possible things she would be able to create. But it left her with questions, questions she was itching to find out.

* * *

Holly joined Daphne, Blaise, Theo and the other Slytherins outside Saturday morning at the Quidditch pitch. Taking a break from studying to relish in the golden rays of the sunshine and fresh air. It was nice being outside in the fresh air that actually smelt pleasant.

The weeks were blurring into one, and Holly couldn't believe that her third week at Hogwarts was coming to a close. Before she would know it the winter months would have arrived. Despite feeling more comfortable with the routine of Hogwarts, Holly still felt as if she was drowning no matter how hard she was trying to stay afloat. Despite that, she had still allowed Daphne to talk her round to the idea of watching their House team's tryouts for the Quidditch team.

"So tell me again exactly how it works?" She asked, directing the question more to Draco who had joined their group than the others. She had always got the impression that while Blaise and Theo would watch the sport, they had no love for it, but then maybe she was reading into their lack of enthusiasm as something else. Though she doubted that anyone could be as enthusiastic about Quidditch as Draco at least appeared to be.

"The object of the game is to score more points than your opposing team. Each goal is worth ten points, and it is the three Chasers job to score those points with the Quaffle in the opposing team's goals. The Keepers job is to defend the goals. Each team has two Beaters whose job it is to protect their own teammates from the opposing team's Beaters and the Bludgers. They do this by beating the bludgers away, or towards the opposing team. Then there is the final player, the Seeker," Draco paused to catch his breath before continuing on with his explanation, "The Seeker's job is to catch the golden snitch. The Snitch is worth 150 points and once it is caught the game ends, so even if your team catches the snitch it doesn't mean they have automatically won if the opposing team has scored more points prior."

"Okay," she answered, not a hundred percent confident that she had understood all of it.

"The Slytherin Quidditch team has won for the last several years. Flint, the Captain, only accepts the very best from his team."

"So why are they holding tryouts?" she asked.

"Because we only accept the best," Draco answered with a roll of his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "If someone else in the years below is good, really good then Flint may swap them around. It's just a shame that first years aren't allowed their own brooms."

Draco then proceeded to reel of different facts about Quidditch and the moves that were performed by various players while both Daphne and Blaise shot her amused looks with raised eyebrows that clearly said 'you asked for it', before carrying on with their discussion about something that sounded more interesting. Holly had no idea what a Finbourgh Flick was.

Despite Draco's explanation watching the Slytherin players themselves was entertaining, and she could perhaps see why people loved the sport so much. Though if she was honest the concept of flying held her attention more than anything else.

Who hadn't dreamed at one point that they wish they could fly, she certainly had, more than once. It certainly would have been useful in the past.

Flint picked the same three Chasers that had been on the team last year after all potential Chasers had taken their shot, making it look more and more like Flint intended to keep the same team entirely and that he was merely observing formality with holding the tryouts. Especially after Miles Bletchley became the successful Keeper.

The tryouts for the Seeker and the Beaters was somewhat chaotic in comparison to the Keeper and Chaser part of the tryouts. From what Holly could see there were six potential Beaters, two that had already been on the team and were used to working together enough to read the slightest shift in the positioning of each other and four new potential candidates that weren't used to working together. In the chaos of them flying and beating the bludgers away was nine potential Seekers all flying aimlessly around searching for the all important golden snitch.

Holly wasn't sure how Flint was keeping track of them because she certainly wasn't having much success in the chaos.

"Higgs is definitely the better Seeker," Draco stated.

"I'm not sure how you can tell who is who amongst all that, but considering he has been on the team for the last five years, it's not really that much of a surprise is it?" Theo answered, with a shake of his head.

"Well I'm bored, don't get me wrong, watching a game of Quidditch is all very entertaining, but tryouts...that is just taking it to far, especially when they are all so..." Blaise began, though Holly wasn't sure what exactly they all were as it seemed to evade him.

"How can you bored? We've seen about three near-deadly accidents so far, not to mention broken limbs," Holly said.

"Can they be called accidents if someone is purposely aiming something at you?"

"Probably not, but it gets the blood flowing, avoiding death," Holly answered, with a shrug, "besides I thought Slytherins had an image to maintain, you know enjoying senseless violence."

"Don't forget the sacrificing of the innocent every full moon," another voice broke in, "though I do object to the senseless violence. Violence serves a crucial purpose."

"Depends on who you are asking Rosier," Holly answered, as the third year boy joined them. A freshly changed Pucey following behind.

"Congratulations on making the team." She added with a nod towards the other boy.

"There was never any doubt." He smiled as they sat down next to the first years.

"And if I was asking you, Black?" Rosier asked, ignoring the others, his blue eyes staring at her intently.

Holly shrugged, "depends on the circumstances."

"A lot of depends there," Rosier laughed.

"Everything has a time and a place."

"That it does, Black, that it does."

All eyes turned back to the fliers in the sky before Flint finally blew his whistle as Higgs had caught the Snitch.

"Same team as last year and no one shows the slightest promise to replace Higgs next year. How disappointing," Rosier sighed.

Pucey snorted, "It suited its purpose, you know full well this shambles is going to get back to the other teams, and they will all think we are bloodthirsty demons."

"Which was the whole point, Flint was always going to pick the same team," Holly said as her mind caught up.

"And why not?" Flint asked as he flew over to join them, "The team we currently have has won for the last two years without any changes being made and other than Higgs everyone else has at least another two-three years before leaving Hogwarts."

"It's ingenious, make everyone else worry about needing to prepare for new players, let them see your tryouts when in actual fact you are using the same players as last year," Daphne said with a smile as she joined in with the conversation.

"Could mean that it will be one of you lot next year that will make the team, depending on whether any of them improve over the next year," Flint said, giving them all a pointed look.

"That's if we ever get to have a flying lesson," Draco muttered, irritation evident in his voice.

Holly couldn't help but wince at the reminder. Their first lesson hadn't gone well. In fact, it hadn't gone at all due to an accidental Neville Longbottom losing control and falling from a considerable height. Rather than risking a bunch of eleven-year-olds to do something foolish their Professor had dismissed them all while she had taken the boy to the Hospital wing. Something which Draco had been whining about for the last week.

"Well we can't have that, our first years not getting to have their first flying lesson," Flint smirked, before handing his broom to Draco, "Go on Malfoy, show us what you can do. Of course, you damage my broom, I will have to break your bones."

For a split second, Draco hesitated before accepting the broom off Flint and taking off. While Holly was no expert, she could see that Draco showed some skill at the very least.

"Not bad, not bad Malfoy," Flint whistled when Draco finally came back down to the stands.

One by one they each took turns on Flint's broom, some refused, having no interest or desire to fly until finally, Flint shoved the broom in her direction.

Holly couldn't deny that she felt a little apprehensive, but she took it without thinking. Pushing away the knot in her stomach she swung her leg over the broom. Allowing herself to feel the tiny vibrations run up the length of her arms as she gripped the handle.

Flint readjusted her hands almost at once with a stern, "you're going to break your neck Black, and as entertaining as that might be I sure as hell am not explaining it to the Professors.

As soon as Flint had stepped away, Holly kicked off without thinking, letting the broom come alive under her. She leant forward almost instinctively, rising up in the air almost vertical at a speed that she could only describe as freeing.

Flying was freeing.

Her heart pounded against her chest, but Holly didn't care for a second, she loved it.

Shifting from left to right directing her broom on the slightest touch she circled round more than once, feeling the air whip around her. The seconds ticked by and Holly could say for those few moments she forgot about everything else. The world slipped away, and all she could focus about was flying. It felt natural like she had been doing it her whole life.

Reluctantly Holly brought the broom back to the stands and dismounted, not even trying to hide the grin that crept along her lips.

"That was bracing."

Flint barked a laugh, "First time on a broom Black?"

Holly shrugged.

"If I didn't _know_ you had grown up with the muggles, I would call bullshit there, but it must just run in your blood. I know what broom I have Black and even I can't make it go as fast as you just did then. You have potential to play Quidditch if you're interested."

"I don't play by the rules that well. Besides, flying was fun, playing a sport probably isn't the same."

"Come to the first training session. First years aren't allowed their own brooms, but that doesn't stop them from playing," Flint replied, "you have the most potential I have seen yet for next year's team, and I intend to exploit that. Oh and just so you know that wasn't me asking."

Holly frowned at the other boys back as he walked away before she could respond.

"Huh?"

"Unbelievable!" Draco whined, "You don't even appreciate Quidditch!"

"Huh?" Holly said stupidly, feeling as if she had missed something important. Flint couldn't seriously be suggesting she was going to be on the Quidditch team. Not when he had already picked the players from the previous year.

Pucey laughed at her, "You will get used to him. And he wasn't joking, he will make your life a living hell if you think about refusing."

"What a dark horse you are Black, I'm going to have to pay close attention to you," Rosier smirked.

"I really rather you didn't," Holly said weakly.

"That's what makes it fun." The other boy laughed as both Rosier and Pucey turned to leave.

Holly looked at Daphne who was looking at her with more amusement that Holly thought the situation deemed necessary.

"What the hell just happened?"

"I would say Flint has shoehorned you into being on the Quidditch team for next year."

"I didn't even participate in the tryouts. Just because I could fly doesn't mean I can play Quidditch," she argued.

Daphne laughed, as they made their way down from the stands, "Best get practising then. I doubt Flint is going to be the forgiving kind if you lose."

Holly accused, "You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"Only a little," Daphne smiled, "Besides a lot can happen in a year. He will probably find a new potential candidate between now and then. You just need to survive the first practice session. Prove you're just good at flying and not at playing a sport."

"Of course that is if she actually survives it, I doubt Flint is the easy task master," Blaise added.

"That isn't helping Blaise," Holly groaned, "I don't know the first thing about Quidditch, despite listening to Draco."

"Relax Holly, you will be fine. It will probably only be a couple of broken bones if the tryouts were anything to go by," Daphne teased, with a smirk.

"I hate you."

The other girl laughed at her but didn't bother responding. Inwardly Holly groaned, how the hell was she going to fit everything in, Artificing and Quidditch practice not to mention Riddle wanting to see her regularly each week. She supposed she could just be really awful so Flint dropped the idea of her being on the team next year pretty quick.

 _Relax, if everything goes according to plan you might not even be here next year, so you won't have a thing to worry about._

That was a comforting thought if nothing else.


	15. Chapter 15

AN: Thank you to everyone who has read the story, reviewed, added to alerts and favourites. Your continued support amazes me and is very much appreciated.

Sorry for the slight delay had a few editing problems with this chapter which took longer than I had hoped. I hope though that the majority of them have gone and it is actually a legible chapter and not gibberish that I have imagined as being readable.

Thank you for your continued support.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Chapter 14:- **Unseen Enemy**

Magical duels were fast; incredibly so and magnitudes more punishing if a combatant wasn't entirely focused for even the briefest of moments.

She was no stranger to fights, she had been in more than a few herself, and having endured the Pit she had seen exactly what magic could do against another when turned to do harm.

And yet as Holly watched in silent fascination along with her classmates as the duel unfolded before them she couldn't help but be impressed.

It was different here; it was magic on magic, and while the Pit had been for the enjoyment of Wizardkind at the expense of the muggles this duel was so much more.

Holly found it tough to focus on the wand movements each duellist made, let alone keep track of the spells that they were using. They may only have been sixth years, but their skill set was intimidating and was at a level that Holly doubted she would ever obtain.

And yet, that was precisely why Riddle had arranged this demonstration for them. As the weeks had blurred into one and September gave way to October their lessons had changed dramatically. The slow breaking in pace had been replaced with something intense, gruelling and unforgiving. And it wasn't just Riddle who had changed the tempo of his lessons, every Professor following had as well.

Even the students who had started off somewhat smug about their private tutors before Hogwarts were struggling to keep up with the pace that was being set for them. There was no mercy in obtaining your rank within the League and as the first term was well underway the first years would soon be seeing where they stood.

Along with participating in their own duels.

Not that any of them were anywhere near showing a quarter of skill as the two students below them.

"They are good aren't they," Daphne whispered next to her, careful not to draw Riddle's attention their way.

"Superb," Holly agreed, "almost makes you wonder will we ever be that good."

"Don't be absurd," Blaise smirked, his eyes sparkling against his dark complexion, "We will be better."

Holly shared a look with Daphne, whose eyes glistened with amusement and a small smile crept along her lips, a smile that Holly couldn't help but return.

Their attention was soon brought to the platform once more when one of the sixth years defeated the other. Riddle called the duel to an end and stood at the centre.

"Thank you, Mallory, Robinson." He nodded once in both of the sixth year's directions before turning his attention to the Slytherin and Gryffindor first years.

"Duelling...battling with magic is an art form. It comes with time, practice, and dedication. Today's demonstration was to show you, what you potentially could achieve, or even exceed should you put your minds to it," Riddle said to them, "Of course, every great witch or wizard has to start at the beginning. Each of you has managed to produce a shield and maintain that shield to some degree, though there is room for improvement from each of you."

Holly could hear the warning in his voice, and she doubted she was the only one. It had been a gruelling few weeks since their first lesson. Riddle had pushed them with the two-week deadline to master the Shield Charm, and quickly moved them on to the Verdimillious Charm, useful in both a duel and to reveal things hidden by magic as long as the effects of the spell lasted.

The Knockback Jinx had followed after leaving them with more bruises than the Stinging Hex had done which they had also taken a turn at learning. On top of the spells, Riddle was putting them through their paces physically as well. Something that more than a few students were unfamiliar to...and complained loudly about when they were out hearing from Riddle.

And yet despite their mumblings and grumblings, not a single one of them refused to do it, so over the last couple of weeks, they had learned to Dance, Parry, Duck, and Pound and correctly hold their wands, so it moved with them and flowed into one spell from the next. Riddle emphasising the all-important lesson that movement made you a harder target.

None of them was superb, and they weren't even trying the _sparring_ with physical spell work yet.

While she was use to scraps and fights Holly would admit, she was more use to throwing a punch or a good kick than waving a wand and casting a spell while fighting. Her muscles were aching at the pace that Riddle was starting them with and if the duel they had just witnessed was any indication it was going to get a lot worse.

"Now the next step is to learn how to disarm an opponent. Can anyone tell what that charm is?" Riddle asked.

Several hands rose almost instantly, followed by a few others at a slower pace.

"Longbottom." Riddle pointed to.

"The Disarming Charm," Neville meekly squeaked.

"Care to elaborate Longbottom?" Riddle asked, his eyebrow rising slightly and his lips turned to a slight sneer.

"T-t-the," Neville gulped, "the incantation is _Expelliarmus._ "

"Correct, Longbottom," Riddle nodded at the boy, "Many would argue that the Disarming Charm lies at the heart of a good duelling technique. And while a useful spell that has the potential to save your life it would be foolish to rely solely on the Charm."

He paused, looking around the classroom ensuring that he had their full attention. He was void of emotion, giving nothing away about his real opinion. Though Holly couldn't help but notice the tension that was rolling off him. While she couldn't say she knew him to any degree, she had come accustomed to reading the subtle changes that would give an indication of his mood. He was holding himself differently, tight and hard rather than the usual relaxed casualness he often wore when teaching. It wasn't obvious, not really, but it was there, under the surface.

Something was on his mind.

"Longbottom! Crabbe! Up on the platform now."

Crabbe looked confused that his name had been mentioned and only moved when Draco poked him hard enough, Neville looked reluctant to move, but from what Holly could only say was a reassuring nudge from Doge both boys joined Riddle on the platform.

Riddle took his wand and went over the wand movement with each boy, which looked like a slanted figure of six with a little extra swirl and flick.

"The incantation is as Longbottom said _Expelliarmus,_ pronounced _ex-Pell-ee-ARE-muss._ Now I want you all to practice not just Longbottom and Crabbe."

The room was filled with shouted 'Expelliarmus' before Riddle silenced them with a look. Turning his attention to the two boys on the stage he addressed them.

"Now, in reality, both of you would be firing any and all spells you know at each other, however for the purpose of this lesson and for you getting used to each casting the spell you will _both_ be casting the spell. Whichever of you manages to cast it successfully will then face another opponent and so forth," Riddle gave them both a look, "take your places, and on my count, you will begin."

Both boys moved to the opposite side of the platform. A few encouraging cheers and jeers could be heard from both sets of houses for their fellow member. Holly stayed silent, watching, studying both boys.

Crabbe was more alert than she had ever seen him before, and while she couldn't comment on his skill at spell work his sheer presence screamed intimidation and something he apparently worked to his advantage. Despite both being eleven years old he towered over Neville and with most of his bulk in his shoulders and neck. She had met plenty of boys like him in the Warren and had been smart enough to keep a wide breadth of them.

"Three...two...one!"

" _EXPELLIARMUS!"_ both boys shouted at the same time.

Neville's wand twitched and sparked with red light, but nothing much else happened, and Crabbe's wand didn't even so much as a spark.

"Intent. You have to think about what you want the spell to do and intend it to do it," Riddle sighed, "Use the Wand-lighting Charm as an example when casting it do you think about the rules of magic or do you think 'I need light'? While the rules are _necessary,_ the _Intent_ is more important. All magic is the same, you need to intend for it to happen. Try again."

"My money is on Longbottom," Blaise whispered from the side of her.

"I would agree, but what makes you say that?"

"Despite his nerves, he is more anxious to prove himself."

Holly smiled slightly but didn't answer. She wanted Neville to succeed.

While their interactions had been brief since coming to Hogwarts the journey to Hogwarts they had shared had cemented, in her mind at least, that he was likeable, friendly and genuine.

The two boys faced each other off once again, waiting for Riddle to signal before casting the spell.

"Three...two...one!"

" _EXPELLIARMUS!"_

Neville was a little quicker in the spell, only by a mere second, and the sheer concentration on his face was a clear indication of the determination he was throwing into it. Red light sparked brightly from the wand, shooting in Crabbe's direction and expelling the boy's wand from his hand.

Silence fell over everyone for a split second before the Gryffindors erupted into cheers and claps.

"If only I had placed a bet," Blaise muttered with a shake of his head.

Holly laughed, "There is always next time."

He flashed her a smile that was all teeth.

"Well done Longbottom," Riddle said, though it was hard to determine if he was sincere or bored, "Crabbe sit down, I expect one roll of parchment on what exactly you did wrong by next Monday."

He turned and faced the rest of them, "let that be a warning to you all. If you fail, you will be expected to write one roll by Monday, and you will also be used as target practice for the rest of the class until you're able to disarm them."

The cheers stopped instantly. Riddle very rarely assigned detentions; his punishments involved the individual or individuals being used as human targets until they got the spell right. It was a perfect motivation, though often left some with more than a few cuts and bruises.

His warning brought home the reality, failure was not an option, even barely halfway through their second month they were being monitored and assessed and should they be found not putting a hundred percent in they wouldn't be given a second chance.

"Now each of you will get a turn, whoever I chose next manages to disarm Longbottom; they will then face the next opponent and so forth.

Riddle picked Finnigan as his next opponent, which Neville lost against, not being able, to sum up, the same determination has he first had. Finnigan lost to Parkinson, who lost to Doge.

Doge then won the next four opponents she faced.

"Black, your next," Riddle snapped.

Holly rose from her seat, slowly making her way down to the platform. She had studied the girl during her last four goes of the spell; she cast with confidence and determination. Her brow crinkled as Doge focused on the person she was facing, but Holly had also noted after her first two opponents that the other girl tapped her middle finger twice on her wand. She doubted the other girl was aware of it, it was hardly noticeable, but it was there, along with the slight movement of her lips as if she was whispering the spell first before actually saying it.

Holly had watched even more closely during the next two goes determinedly to see whether she had imagined the slight ritual that Doge had to run with or if the girl actually did it.

By the time Holly reached the platform a plan had formed in her mind to ensure that she would beat Doge.

"On my count, you will begin," Riddle continued, "one..."

Holly focused on Doge, pushing everything else away until it was just distant noise, her heart beat thumping loudly in her ears, her eyes narrowing, as she studied the wand hand and counted just as Riddle said _two._

 _One, tap._

 _Two, taps._

 _Now!_

" _EXPE..."_

Holly spun to the left.

 _"...LLIARMUS!"_

She watched as the red light of Doge's spell flew past her, it narrowly missed her. Doge stared at her, mouth open in surprise. Without missing a beat using her experience of fighting to her advantage, she raised her own wand and cast the spell. Willing the magic to life and ensuring her intent was clear that she wanted to disarm the other girl she cast the spell.

 _"Expelliarmus!"_

Doge's wand flew out of her hand as the spell hit her. The girl glared at her.

"You cheated!" Doge accused.

Holly shrugged, "The Professor didn't say we couldn't move, and a moving target is a hard target."

"But..."

A slow clap stopped Doge in her tracks, causing both of them to turn and look at Riddle.

"Five points to Slytherin for thinking outside of the box. I said you couldn't use other spells, I did not say you couldn't use other things to your advantage."

He turned to look at them all, his face giving nothing away to what he was thinking; his eyes were hard, "No matter how good you think you are no matter how many spells you _think_ you know I can guarantee that someone will be better than _you_. Will know more, will have more experience, and will be more powerful. That's what you have to understand; no matter how good you think you are you can still be beaten."

He spoke quietly, but then Holly was sure he would have carried an equal ferocity to them had he been whispering, they silenced every single student in the class.

"Once you accept failure, then you will realise what it takes to achieve perfection, what it will take for you to reach greatness. That's when you understand the truth that only you can push yourself. Only you can decide not to give up when you feel as if you have nothing left to give. Win at all costs."

 _Win at all costs._ Holly eyed Riddle, mentally nodding in approval. Replaying the words over and over in her head. _She_ knew there were people bigger, stronger and more powerful than her. It was why she always tried to use her appearance to her advantage in the Warren and why she intended to use her lack of knowledge of the Wizarding World to her advantage now.

"Let this be a lesson to you all, there is more than one way to win."

He turned to look at Doge, "Doge sit down, and you're up next Davis."

"Well done Snow," Riddle muttered to her quietly as he moved out of the way, Holly couldn't say if he was happy or not, but she swore she could see his lips twitch upwards ever so slightly.

Holly managed to defeat Davis but lost against Blaise, not that she minded. He was slightly quicker at saying the spell, and she had yet to see Blaise give much away in regards to nervous tics.

One or two of the others attempted to mimic her by moving, with somewhat success and more than clumsy, but it was getting them to think outside the box which Holly was sure what Riddle wanted.

By the end of the class, less than half of them had managed to successfully disarm one of their classmates at the very least, leaving the rest with writing a roll of parchment as homework on top of practising the spell.

From the look, Doge threw her way, as she left the classroom Holly could tell the other girl wasn't happy that she had been beaten by her.

* * *

 _"Expelliarmus!"_

Holly's wand flew out of her hand and landed with clutter on the floor, Daphne threw her a grin, as she bent down to retrieve it.

"I think you have mastered that spell," Holly said.

"Practice makes perfect."

Blaise snorted, causing Daphne to glare at him.

He chuckled, "You're competitive, and saying it's anything else is doing you a disservice."

"There is nothing wrong with being competitive," Daphne argued.

"No nothing wrong at all, in small doses. However, there is nothing small about your competitiveness."

Holly shared a look with Blaise whose eyes were laughing. Over the last few weeks, she had become accustomed to the sarcastic banter that passed between them. Just as she had become accustomed to them in general.

Though she would scoff at the term friendship, she couldn't help but say it was _something_ that was growing between them. _Something_ that made her instantly want to pull back, though every time she did, she found they followed. As the days bled into weeks, the rigid formality with sharp bite had given away to a warm allied affection. The sarcasm still remained but was more harmless banter that held less bite than it perhaps once did. They respected her privacy in most matters and never pushed for more information than she was ready to give in regards to her life before Hogwarts and magic, not that she ever gave too much when she did mention it. In return, they told her about their families, likes, dislikes, goals and interests.

Daphne's favourite subjects besides Evocation were Transfiguration and Potions. Holding a love for the art of brewing much like her father's side of the family, who owned a chain of Apothecaries throughout the Empire, and were also licensed Potioneers. She had a younger sister who she loved, even if she never voiced it in so many words. Besides competitive Daphne was focused, determined and more intelligent than she liked to let on.

Blaise loved Charms next to Evocation, was raised by his mother in Italy and her string of husbands, though Holly could hear the dispassionate tone, he used when referring to them, and had a manor house in London where they spent the social season residing in. He was filthy rich, his mother owned and designed her own range of fancy robes and was a renowned Enchantress in her own right and he seemed to have inherited a natural charm that would one day be considered dangerous.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Daphne huffed.

Holly couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her before dodging a cushion thrown her way.

"We seriously need to work on your aim," she muttered.

"Heads up, Parkinson's on the warpath," Blaise warned, with a nod.

Holly looked up in the direction Blaise indicated and could see that Parkinson was indeed heading their way and her expression was anything but friendly, Davis dutifully following behind her. Despite sharing a dorm with the two girls, they both went out of their way to avoid contact with her whenever they could. Parkinson still liked to throw the comments around about her upbringing as and when she could, or mutter under her breath as she passed, but mostly it was avoidance.

Until now.

Holly braced herself for the confrontation, uncertain at what to expect but schooling her features into a mask of indifference to give nothing away as to what she was feeling.

"Where is it?" Parkinson barked, the accusation thick and heavy with her words, as she glared at her.

Holly frowned in confusion, "Where is what?"

"My diamond bracelet. It was on my bedside table this morning, and it isn't there now," she hissed loudly.

Holly blinked in surprise. She vaguely recalled Parkinson showing off the thing at breakfast a birthday present she had received from her parents, and when they had returned to the common room after Holly remembered the other girl taking it off and putting it on her bedside table but that was the last she had seen it.

"Lay of Parkinson, you sure it's not rolled off the bedside table," Daphne said, stepping up her defence almost instantly.

"I've checked, it's not there. I know Black took it," Parkinson argued before swinging her gaze back to her, "I saw you eyeing it up, bet you couldn't wait to get your greasy paws on it!"

Holly could feel anger stirring, coiling tightly and waiting to strike out. Parkinson's shouting was drawing attention to them, eyes weighing and judging as the scene unfolded.

"I didn't take it!" she protested slowly.

"Hey now, what's going on here?" Selwyn asked as she approached them calmly, taking control of the situation almost instantly.

"She stole my bracelet!"

"No, I didn't!"

Selwyn looked between the both of them, shaking her head slightly, "That's a serious accusation Parkinson, are you certain you didn't put it in your trunk?"

"I left it on my bedside table. Check her bag, I demand you check Black's bag."

Holly frowned, something didn't feel right. She knew she hadn't taken the damn bracelet and while it grated on her slightly the idea of having her bag searched she would do so...reluctantly, just to prove a point. But why was Parkinson insisting it, why her bag and not her trunk which would have certainly been the safer option to hide something rather than having it on her person...unless.

 _Sneaky bitch,_ inwardly Holly swore, Parkinson would only be confident it would be in her bag if she had actually placed it in the bag herself.

"Firstly little first year, you don't demand anything of me," Selwyn warned, not quite a growl but her voice rumbled enough to be almost considered one, turning to her the other girl gave nothing away in what she was thinking.

"Black, I can search your bag myself, or I can get a Professor to deal with it. Professor Snape won't be happy in dealing with something so trivial though."

Holly knew she had no choice, no choice what so ever, and she was certain that Selwyn would find the blasted thing as well.

"Do what you need to do," Holly answered with a sigh, picking up her bag and handing it to the fifth year prefect.

Holly watched Selwyn search through her bag until she finally pulled out the diamond bracelet. Parkinson practically preened with satisfaction.

White hot anger flooded through her, burning every part of her body. But despite the heat that was emanating from her, pushing to escape and consume everything in its path, the room dropped in temperature. The shuddered Parkinson gave as the confidence fell replaced with uncertainty, even Selwyn blinked in surprise, giving her a look of caution. Before the other girl shook herself from it and turned to Parkinson.

"Is this your bracelet?"

"Yes," Parkinson nodded, though not before throwing a wary look in her direction.

"How did it get into your bag Black?"

"I don't know," Holly answered coldly, refusing to show the slightest sign of weakness. She could see narrowed looks of suspicion from those that observed at a safe distance, and she dared not look at Daphne or Blaise in fear of seeing the same doubt in their eyes. That would hurt more than she liked to admit.

She was the Muggle-raised. The girl who had admitted to stealing. The outsider who didn't belong here, who didn't know their ways. She may have Black's blood running through her veins, but she wasn't one of them. One of the elite who ruled this world with magic and might. She was just Holly, Holly who was playing pretend because Riddle deemed it necessary to do so for reasons she couldn't yet fathom but heavily involved politics.

"Did you take it?"

"No."

"I'm going to have to report this to Professor Snape Black," Selwyn advised.

"Do what you need to do, Selwyn," Holly answered, as she took her bag off the prefect and walked away from them, though she added coldly, "though why I would steal it when it's obvious it's a fake. After all, I know my diamonds, and those, those aren't real."

Holly ignored the looks that followed her as she made her way up to the dormitory. She was angry, really angry, but then she had no one to blame but herself. After all, why would she expect anything less?

* * *

Holly wasn't sure how long she was sitting on her bed before Daphne joined her. The other girl sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting quietly.

Holly refused to look up from her book. She knew she was being rude, but Holly didn't care if it meant she could avoid having Daphne accuse her with her eyes.

"I know you didn't do it."

The statement hung heavy in the air, like a dark cloud, and yet Holly couldn't help but feel it lifted a weight from her shoulders. A burden she hadn't wanted to acknowledge.

"Neither do the boys, but I will let them speak for themselves," Daphne continued.

Holly looked up at her, "Thank you."

Daphne nodded once.

"Why?"

"You mean besides I was with you for most of the day?" Daphne asked with a raised eyebrow, and laughter glinting in her eyes ever so slightly, well at least someone was having fun, "Holly you have not looked at one thing since being here with the intent of taking it. You have had your nose stuck in a book, got yourself caught up in Quidditch practices, but you haven't looked for trouble."

 _Not a hundred percent accurate, but you don't play where you sleep._

"Thank you," she said again.

Daphne smiled ever so slightly, "You need to be aware though. Parkinson is like a dog with a bone if she smells any weakness she won't give up on it."

"Are you actually going to tell me what Parkinson wants, why she has taken a dislike to me and what your problem is with her?"

"She dislikes you because of your upbringing. She dislikes you because you are a half-blood. She dislikes you because despite the fact you are a half-blood you still come from a more prominent, wealthy and influential family which gives you the far better advantage at becoming significant than it does her. Your family will open more doors and more possibilities despite being a half-blood, and should you actually be the heir well then you inherit it all."

"I can't help who my parents are."

"No you can't," Daphne sighed, "How much do you know about the Houses, the politics, ruling class, everything to do with the Ministry and the Empire?"

Wizardkind, in general, had been the ruling class to the muggles, but Riddle had ensured she was knowledgeable in the Ministry, the Houses and everything else. While she couldn't say she fully understood it, Holly could reel of the information if she needed to.

"I know the Emperor is the overall ruler of the Empire, I know he appointed the Minister Adjunct to be his Voice in Britain. The Minister Adjunct is essentially the head of the Lord Emperor's government in Britain."

"Yes, but the Minister Adjunct doesn't rule alone, he has a Cabinet. There are 51 members of the Cabinet, but out of that 51 only 20 are elected members, the rest are hereditary."

"Let me guess, the Black family is a member of the Cabinet?" Holly asked. That was something Riddle had failed to mention to her.

"Yes, I suppose I should be grateful that you are quick at the very least, the Parkinson family, despite being an old Pureblood family weren't one of the numbered hereditary members. But they were an elected member, until two years ago."

"What happened two years ago?"

"Augurio Parkinson fell out of favour due to an indiscretion; he was forced to forfeit his place in the Cabinet."

"What indiscretion?"

"I was never told," Daphne answered with a shake of her head. Though Holly couldn't help but feel as if the other girl was lying about that.

"Interesting politics aside, why should this concern me, I am eleven years old, and might not even be the heir."

"The Parkinson's have been trying to do everything they possibly can to regain favour, and are prepared to use any means necessary to do so. Pansy Parkinson is the family's future, if she can gain notice here, popularity, allies over the next seven years then she will be in the perfect position to launch her own campaign to become an elected member."

"I'm still not seeing how I fit into Parkinson's plan."

Daphne sighed in frustration. "You take one step forward and two backwards. Social manoeuvring is the only way you raise your standing, and yes it is something we are taught to be aware of."

Daphne continued, "We all grew up together, our families regardless of whether they are members of the Cabinet are all part of the ruling class, our parents were picky on who _we_ interacted with. While none of us can claim but a few as real friends, we are acquaintances. Parkinson already knows us; she knows which of us are going to be beneficial to her and will ignore those who she considers useless to her. "

"She is going be befriending the people who are well connected, like Malfoy, Bulstrode, Zabini I could carry on but I think you can see where I am going with this."

"I'm the only unknown factor," Holly stated, though if she was going to be honest it sounded all very mercenary, except it wasn't that much different from life in the Warren, only with magic rather than knives, but that was a game she could play well.

"Yes, potentially the heir to a powerful family who will inherit the Cabinet position rightfully when you come of age, possibly giving you the power to block _her_ election. You are unknown, and everyone is curious now about you, and it is taking the attention away from her. Parkinson has never liked the attention being taken away from her," Daphne paused for a moment before continuing. "If she can destroy you over the next seven years no one is going to take you seriously when you leave Hogwarts."

Holly blinked, she had expected Parkinson trying to become top dog of their year group by pushing her down, but she hadn't expected this. Hell, she couldn't even begin to wrap her head around it.

"That's a big goal to have," Holly murmured.

"Our parents ingrain into us not to bring shame to our family. I know that if I were the only hope my family had in regaining favour I would be expected to do my duty."

"So how much is Parkinson and how much is her family?"

"They are one and the same, family comes first."

Holly could hear the double meaning there whether it was intentional on Daphne's part or not she couldn't say. Daphne was equally loyal to her family and would do what she needed to do for her family. Whether that boded well for Holly, she wasn't sure.

Holly stayed silent letting her mind run through every option she had available to her. She didn't care about the Cabinet or her reputation, not in the same way that Parkinson and the other Family Houses clearly did. Holly had her own goals that she intended to achieve them long before then, but for the moment Parkinson was going to be a problem of that she had no doubt. The more attention the girl brought to her the less likely Holly would be able to get on with what she needed to do.

Doing nothing wasn't an option, and while she didn't want to directly confront Parkinson, she knew she was going to have to do something sooner rather than later.

"Would she consider you beneficial to her?" Holly asked.

"My family aren't Cabinet members, though we are wealthy and inflectional in other ways. We aren't ones she would disregard but neither are we the family she would approach first," Daphne answered with a laugh, "Besides she knows I dislike her and have done since we were seven. She won't find any help from me."

"That sounds like a story."

"I told you Parkinson doesn't like the attention on anyone other than herself. She didn't like that was ignored at one social event that our parents took us to so she cut off of my hair."

Holly blinked in surprise, she had expected something a little more life harming but then maybe she was simply more cynical than she should be for her age.

"I'm not going to confront her directly."

"I wouldn't expect you to, but it could be your only option. The bracelet is only the beginning she will pick and pick and pick until there is nothing left to pick at."

"I guess I will cross that bridge when I come to it."

"You have potential Holly it would be a shame to see it go to waste only because you refused to stand up for yourself."

"I never said I wouldn't stand up for myself," Holly replied, not that she was a hundred percent certain how she would go about it.

* * *

In one of the rare moments she was able to slip away from the watchful eyes of her housemates, Holly found herself in the abandoned classroom in the dungeons. Since the incident with Parkinson, her housemate's attitude towards her had changed from cordial to chilled.

Not that it bothered her. Their opinions were far down the list of things that actually mattered. Daphne, Blaise and Theo had surprisingly stuck by her, and she couldn't really fathom why.

Not that she had the time to question the whys, turning her attention back to the matter at hand, Holly frowned at the single piece of parchment that was lying on the stone floor, almost mockingly.

Choosing to spend the time alone and her energy she had taken a chance to practice some of the spells she had been learning, both from the classroom and those she had read in the book. Holly reasoned she needed every ace up her sleeve she could get.

Not that she was having much luck.

Or rather she wasn't having much luck with one particular spell.

The fire-making spell.

Despite the warning in the book, Holly had been eager to attempt to master the spell, she had practised the wand movements until she had them perfected. She had practised the incantation, ensuring she emphasised the _SEN-dee-o._ Until she was confident to attempt the spell.

Mentally she ran through the steps, took the time to gather her intent and focus her mind, pushing thoughts that were best left to be ignored to the back of her mind, before casting the spell...and then nothing.

A big fat nothing.

It was disappointing, to say the least, and left Holly feeling frustrated with herself.

She couldn't for the life of her think where she was going wrong.

She had the intent, the power, the wand movement and the incantation.

 _What don't I have?_

Riddle had mentioned more than once that the more powerful the spell, the more focus was required to ensure it worked. Was that her problem here and now, was her focus off so in turn was her intent.

Holly sighed deeply, kneading her head, she was starting to get a headache. But refused to allow the pain distract her she mentally retraced her steps.

 _Intent, incantation, wand movement, will and focus. You can do this, just try again._

Taking a deep breath, Holly gathered her thoughts, mentally turning them into the crackling flames in her mind. Everything and anything could be used as fodder for the fire. She willed them to life, gathered her intent and reached for her magic.

Holly's eyes hardened as she focused on the piece of parchment in front of her. She had chosen it solely because it wouldn't matter if it burned.

 _Fire burning bright._

Holly waved her wand, calmly, chanting " _Incendio!"_ The effect was instantaneous: a bright orange flame sprung to light at the tip of her wand, streaming in the direction she was pointing until the parchment caught alight. Holly watched memorised by the dancing flames as they engulfed the parchment quicker than anything leaving nothing but scorched marks and black ash on the cold stone floor.

She had done it.

She had done it.

Holly couldn't stop the smile escaping, she had actually done it.

After several further attempts Holly was satisfied that she had grasped the spell, and while there was room for improvement yes _she_ had managed it.

Slowly she began to pack her things up, hiding the two sheets of parchment, that had her plans carefully laid out, as best she could in a loose table leg Holly left the abandoned classroom behind, slipping through the corridor as quickly as she could, just in case someone was within hearing distance.

She was almost at the tapestry that hid the secret passage to the library when she stopped. Turning she faced the door that first brought her to this place.

She was still no closer to working out what the etched markings above it meant, nor was she any closer to opening it. She had tried the simple unlocking charm as soon as she had mastered it in class but to no avail.

"What do you mean? What are you hiding?" She muttered, walking closer to the door.

They hadn't glowed since she first stumbled upon them. They had only lain dormant, taunting her with their very existence. The door itself was ordinary enough despite her lack of success with unlocking it...with both magical and mundane ways.

Perhaps it was for that reason she was so intrigued because she hadn't been able to open it and that had never happened before. Even before magic Holly had been a good lock picker.

She had searched the library for some clue, but not knowing where she needed to start had resulted in her randomly pulling books in the hope to learn something... _anything._

She had not yet braved it enough to ask Madam Pince for any help, lest she remembers her in connection with the incident with the stacks.

 _Unless?_

What if she was to try and sense the magic in the door, would that give her some clue as to what magic was involved with it?

Using the techniques that Riddle had taught her, and Doge was enhancing Holly opened her senses to the magic.

Like Hogwarts overall, the walls glowed with numerous threads of magic, like rivers of bright multicoloured flames that wove together in a complicated pattern than Holly doubted she would ever be able to untangle, but the door, the door was different.

There was a complex woven web of magic layering the door, but rather than numerous threads that came from the foundations of the castle upwards, these flowed downwards from the etchings, individually.

As if the etchings themselves were the basis for this particular spell.

 _Interesting, not that I have any clue as to what that means._

Holly closed her senses to the magic, aware of how dull the world looked without them being open.

She still had no clue as to what was on the door, but the etchings were key to it. If she could work them out, just maybe she would be able to solve the puzzle that was behind it.

The question was, whether she should ask for help, and if so who?

Pushing the thoughts to one side, Holly turned away from the door and the mystery that was wrapped around it, slipping through the secret passageway and up to the library.

* * *

"Magic is complicated, and at times unpredictable, dangerous and deadly. Carelessness upon using it is one of our biggest sins, arrogance in our own ability equally so. Artificers push the boundaries. We test, change and evolve with magic pushing the limits of both ourselves and in turn magic," Doge began their Wednesday session with words that captured their attention almost instantly, not that any of them messed around, being here was a choice.

"It is why we must take precautions before we delve into the creation of objects. One false step could have disastrous consequences."

"Today, we will begin in creating wards. Now while wards are an advanced and sophisticated area of magic for most adults, what I will be doing is giving you the tools, knowledge and capability to create wards in a small circular area to allow you in the future, to work on creating magical objects without worrying about any potential backlash."

Holly looked up from her writing her notes and stared at the Professor in surprise. She doubted any of them had been expecting today's session to be regarding Wards.

"Now, I am sure you have seen the wards in action, when in the Evocation classroom, ensuring the safety of everyone should a spell go astray. We will be working on creating our own smaller version of that ward, allowing you to use magic within the area warded, but ensuring it contains any and all magic," Doge explained, "Now who can tell me one of the key ingredients for creating a Ward?"

Hands rose almost instantly.

"Goldstein!"

The Ravenclaw boy answered, "A linchpin."

"Indeed. Now the linchpin can be anything, an object in itself, a physical boundary already there such as the walls to a room. But the linchpin is key to a successful Ward," Doge further explained,

"Now you can create wards on the fly, but you need the time and concentration to do so, not to mention the power but the Wards will only last as long as you are able to maintain them from an attack. Whereas using a linchpin binds the ward in place and allows you to move on to do other things. It fixes it in place, and in turn, the Ward becomes a fixed point."

Doge chuckled at them, "I see from your looks you doubt that you would be able to do this, after all, you are only first years. You have to remember though; the Wards you will be learning to create are only going to encompass a small area, not even the size of this whole room."

"Now shall we begin?" He smiled at them.

He then proceeded to show them the way they could create a Ward, using Symbol Magic. He only briefly skimmed the surface of what appeared to be an exciting area of magic. For the purpose of wards though the symbols themselves were distinct foci for each of them to imbue with magic to weave them together to create the desired effect of a ward.

Holly wasn't sure on the exact hows, but it sounded fascinating. She furiously scribbled her notes down, ensuring she got each step.

For this particular ward, which Doge explained, was a universal ward to those who wished to take the time to learn it, consisted of eight individual symbols. Symbols that needed to be carefully measured at each point of the compass or cardinal points. There were the four main symbols that needed to be carefully placed for North, East, South and West and then four secondary symbols for Northeast, Southeast, Northwest and Northeast equally.

They had to be perfectly distanced from the other, and they had to create a completed circle. Doge showed them a useful little trick of 'point me North' with their wands that made the wands spin several times or so before pointing in the correct direction ensuring that each symbol matched the exact point.

While all of them were eager to start etching the symbols away, Doge had them practice each one multiple times until he was happy each of them had it perfected. Examining everyone one symbol at a time ensuring that not a single one of them rushed ahead because all of them got at least one symbol wrong.

As the two hours drew to a close, there were a few mutters from the others, as they packed up their things and cleared their desks, about the pace they were learning.

Holly couldn't deny that the pace was at times frustrating as she didn't feel like she had learnt anything she knew that today had been different. Because today she had learnt something, or at least given her a direction on where to look at in regards to the symbols etched in the doorway in the dungeons. While they didn't match the ward they had been learning, Holly doubted they could be anything other than Symbol Magic.

Slowing her pace of packing Holly made sure the others had left the classroom before moving to ask Doge her question.

"Professor?"

"Yes Black," Doge answered, glancing at her in surprise. Almost as if he hadn't expected her to have stayed.

"Can symbol magic be broken?"

"Do you mean the ward or any magic using Symbols?" he answered, his eyebrow raised as he studied her carefully.

Holly shrugged, "Both."

"It is possible, though it isn't easy or straightforward. It is why there are curse breakers after all. For some, weaker ones anyway, it is just a matter of overloading them with power, the power that they can't deal with so they break themselves, others it is counteracting the effects with the opposite, after all for every action there is a reaction."

"Can you determine what each one does even if you didn't cast it or imbue it?"

"Yes, of course, there are ways to mask that too," Doge sighed softly, "In truth if one were to learn Symbol Magic on its own then they would learn to cast the symbols individually rather than a combined nature of a ward. However as Artificers and to ensure the safety of everyone you all need to learn the ward. I won't be teaching you Symbol Magic, just how it can be used in relation to Artificing."

"But to answer your question, it takes practice at sensing magic, at sensing when you cast yourself to recognise the signature feel for each spell, plus the unique signature of the caster. Very few people reach that level though."

Holly frowned, "I think I understand."

"Allow me to demonstrate," Doge replied, before quickly waving his wand above his desk as a symbol etched into it as if it was being burned.

"I want you to sense the magic and tell me what you see, feel, or taste."

Holly followed his instructions, taking a deep breath and opening up her senses to the magic. The symbol glowed before her eyes. Faintly, but still there in a pale orange light.

She focused more on the symbol itself and the _feelings_ she was picking up on. She could feel heat wave over her skin, could almost taste the ash in her mouth. It was something to do with fire, but what.

"I can taste ash, and feel the heat. Is it for fire?"

"Not for the physical element itself no. But it is fireproof. This one symbol imbued with magic and activated will ensure _this_ desk doesn't burn. Of course, it is a relatively low powered symbol and a more powerful wizard or witch with a more powerful fire spell will prove that there are some exceptions for that protection it offers."

"So to break it, you have to know what it is _for_ and you do that by sensing the magic."

"Precisely, of course, there are ways to mask them, just as there are more ways to undo them. It is about finding the right way that works. And ensuring you don't trigger any nasty traps that may also be imbued within them."

"Thank you, Professor," Holly said.

"May I enquire as to why you were asking?"

"What happens if you need to break it to get what's inside of a ward out, mostly," she answered, ensuring her face was smooth of emotion to hide the lie.

"Preparation is one step to success."

"Exactly," she nodded in agreement.

"Very well Miss Black, if that will be all."

Taking her cue from him, she thanked him again for his help before leaving the class behind her.

* * *

Wearily Holly made her way up the staircase that led to Riddle's office.

She was tired, more than tired.

Between classes, homework, Quidditch practice, Artificing, weekly meetings with Riddle and her own practising she could admit she was running on empty.

She needed to find a way to recharge and soon. Though finding the time to do so was being somewhat problematic.

A yawn escaped her as she walked through the door.

"Tired?" Riddle asked, not even bothering to look in her direction.

"No," she lied; just as another yawn escaped her.

Riddle's lips twitched slightly as he threw her a look of amusement.

"Pick a book of your choice and read through that, it is pointless attempting to teach you anything when you're tired. I have little desire to repeat myself tonight."

He was tense, she could see that. His brow was creased ever so slightly as he studied the parchment in front of him.

Something was on his mind, not that she knew with any great certainty, but it was there just on the edge of her awareness that tonight he was stressed.

"Everything okay?" she asked absently, more for her own curiosity than anything else, she had yet to see anything really ruffle his feathers, and it would be interesting to see what the cause of his... _stress_ was.

"Yes," he answered.

"You sure, you seem...stressed?"

"Last time I checked Black my business was none of your concern," he snapped back at her.

Holly looked at him, common sense would say she needed to stop, stop pushing him. But as tired as she was common sense was easy to push to one side and take up the stick to poke him with.

"Maybe I could help; you know two minds are better than one."

"Snow!"

"Alright, alright, anyone tell you you're grouchy at times."

"Not if they had any desire to live, or unless they were too stupid," he threw her a pointed look, "to realise when to shut up."

Holly held up her hands in obvious surrender, before turning her attention back to his bookshelves and scanning the collection of books. She was careful to keep an eye on him every so often, just to make sure he didn't decide to curse her into oblivion.

"Oblivion wouldn't nearly be satisfactory enough Snow. Now kindly pick a book and shut up."

"Hey!"

He threw her another warning look before turning his attention back to whatever he was doing.

Holly huffed, before picking a book at random off the shelves. Moving to take a seat by the fire she slipped off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her as she curled up on the small sofa.

Holly woke to the gentle shaking of her shoulder, her eyes snapping open almost instantly as her mind went from slumber to alert quicker than a swish of a wand.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked, as Riddle stepped away from her, picking up the book that had dropped to the floor.

"A few hours."

"Why did you let me sleep?"

"Because it gave me the peace to focus on my work," Riddle answered, before adding absently, "and because you apparently needed it."

"Thank you," she muttered, feeling oddly uncomfortable with the fact she had been comfortable enough to sleep, it signalled a level of trust Holly hadn't realised she felt with the man before and it wasn't something she wanted to acknowledge or accept. In fact, she was happy to send it back to where it came from if she could.

Holly rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched losing the kinks that had formed from sleeping on the couch.

"What time is it?"

"Nine-fifteen."

She still had time before curfew, but only just.

"I need to go before curfew."

"I will write you a note."

Holly looked at him in surprise, but didn't say anything; he seemed less stressed than he had earlier, apparently the time she had been asleep had allowed him to deal with whatever had been irritating him.

"Your Head of House informed me that an accusation of thievery has been brought to his attention. One that has strong evidence against you."

Staying silent Holly looked at him.

"Care to explain?"

"I didn't do it," Holly answered, ensuring her face was schooled to show nothing.

"I am aware of that, as in turn is Professor Snape, not that he will admit that."

Holly didn't ask how she was certain she wouldn't like the answer.

"I am curious as to what you are going to do about it?"

"I get the feeling you won't appreciate nothing," Holly shrugged.

"No," he replied, a disappointed glint in his eyes.

It bothered her. And she wasn't sure why.

"I will deal with."

"Indeed. I do find it's best to know one's enemy before you plan a line of attack."

Holly looked at him suspiciously; he was smirking at ever so slightly taunting her.

"You know something!" she accused.

"I know lots of things, be more accurate Snow," he answered casually.

"About Parkinson."

"About the girl, no, about the family yes."

"And?"

"Patience, Snow, patience," Riddle started, "How much do you know about the Parkinson family?"

"I know they have fallen out of favour," Holly answered, recalling the conversation she had with Daphne.

 _Thank you, Daphne, for that little bit of information._

"Indeed. Augurio Parkinson fell out a favour and lost his position as a Cabinet member because of an indiscretion, an indiscretion that involved him being found in a compromising position with a...muggle."

Holly whistled through her teeth that explained a lot, while she had no issue with the idea she could understand why the Parkinson family had fallen out of favour and why Parkinson herself hated Muggles so much. Her father had committed a sin in her eyes.

 _It's why she hates you so much because you are the closest thing to them. You were raised by them._

The question was what to do with the information.

"Of course what you choose to do with that information Snow is entirely up to you. Though it is often best to destroy one's enemy completely."

Holly tilted her head ever so slightly, in acknowledgement, but didn't say anything.

"That will be all for tonight Snow," Riddle dismissed.

Holly gathered her things together, bid Riddle goodbye and left the office. Her thoughts twirling around as she descended the Headmaster's staircase.

She understood Parkinson a little better now, not that it excused her or make her view her as anything less than a spoilt child.

Turning a left to a staircase on the third floor that led directly to the first floor for some reason that Holly couldn't fathom.

Holly was halfway down the stairs when something hot pierced her calf. She recognised the familiar feel of a spell almost immediately, losing her balance and toppling over, Holly forced herself to relax as much as possible, knowing full well the more relaxed she was, the fewer injuries she was bound to receive. She brought her hands up to protect her face just as her head smacked against the cold stone step and she fell down into oblivion.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Hermione pulled her bag strap onto her shoulder for the third time with a heavy sigh of frustration, crammed full of too many books from the library, as she made her way back to the Gryffindor dormitory it kept sliding off.

She had just enough time to reach the Gryffindor tower before curfew, it was a journey she had made many times and timed it perfectly to ensure the fastest way possible.

It really was unfair that the tower was so far away from the library, at least in her opinion. She much preferred the library over the busy hive that was the Gryffindor Common room.

Compared to the quietness that she was more accustomed to at the orphanage the rowdy housemates were at times overwhelming.

Not that many of them bothered with her much.

Only Neville, loyal Neville whose lack of confidence was his own worst enemy.

Not that she minded, loneliness was something she had equally become accustomed to while living at the orphanage and she had learnt at a young age expecting things from other people only led to disappointment.

Hermione had also accepted at the age of six that she wasn't going to be adopted. She was just too...different, not cute enough, not pretty enough, not young enough. Hermione hadn't been enough. It was perhaps at that moment that despite her age she had turned her back on wanting acceptance from the world. Instead, she had withdrawn with a mission to be the best she could possibly be.

Better than everyone.

And so she had studied and studied and studied until she grew bored of the lessons as she already knew the answers.

She had been ten years old when a new dream took hold of her, where a new desire blossomed from the seeds of hope.

The Headmaster had visited the orphanage like he had every year before to speak to those that were almost of age to attend school.

He had enchanted her with his words and visions and the slight smile that had graced his lips when he had tested her. Almost as if he was impressed.

It was then that she had made a silent promise to herself that she would score the highest in the acceptance tests, Hermione would gain a sponsor, and she would be impressive enough to earn the title of Apprenticeship to the Headmaster.

A dream she so desperately wanted to achieve.

She had scored the highest results in the tests, she had gained a sponsor, and she had been accepted into Hogwarts.

But as the days passed she became more and more aware that obtaining her dream had been made all the more complicated because of a fellow student; Black.

Holly Black the lost witch, Holly Black who had spent the whole summer being tutored by the Headmaster, Holly Black who seemed to be his favourite, Holly bleeding Black who was able to have conversations with the Headmaster.

It was so...so unfair and frustration.

The girl hadn't even taken the test to gain acceptance into the school she had just been granted it.

 _Because she comes from a House and you originate from an orphanage._

It made Hermione all the more determined to prove her worth, and she thought she had when she had managed to cast the Disarming Charm successfully five times, only to be beaten by Holly Black.

 _And she cheated!_

And of course, the Headmaster had awarded her five points. Hermione had felt humiliated.

But Hermione wouldn't allow herself to be beaten again, she wouldn't let it dissuade her, and she would gain that Apprenticeship.

So lost in her thoughts as she turned a corner to take a set of stairs that would lead her to the third floor, she stumbled over something and fell flat. Only managing to put her hands up in time to protect her face from smacking a step.

A groan followed, bringing her attention to the fact that she had tripped over a person and not a...thing.

Hermione blinked in surprise.

 _What the..._

They groaned again, moving slightly as they lifted themselves up with their hands, Hermione could see blood dripping from a cut on their heads.

She blinked again.

 _Holly bloody Black_.

"Bloody hell," Black winced, as she touched her forehead.

"What do you think you are doing?" Hermione hissed, well aware of the bite in her tone, and not feeling the slightest bit guilty about it. She could have seriously been hurt.

"Oh, as if it couldn't get any worse," Black muttered, "I decided that the best way to trip someone up was to lie in front of the steps."

"I was only asking, no need to be rude," Hermione answered, taken aback by the girl's response.

"Right, because logically when someone is sprawled on the floor, they are doing something," Black snapped back, wincing again, "Heaven forbid they may have actually fallen. And I thought you were smart." The other girl snorted.

"I am sm-" Hermione stopped at the glare Black threw her way. An eleven-year-old shouldn't be able to look that way as if she was thinking up the most painful way to disembowel her. It made her slightly wary and almost believed what she had read in the Daily Prophet.

She watched as the other girl pushed herself to her feet.

"Should you move?"

"Probably not, but nothing is broken, so that's a good sign."

"How do you know-"

Black shot her another look, "because I know broken bones. Arms a little sore though."

"What happened?"

Black sighed, "You ask a lot of questions, especially for someone who seems to have already formed an opinion about me."

Hermione didn't answer because there was no point in denying it, she had already formed an opinion about the girl.

"I was hit with a spell, god knows what, but it caused me to fall."

"Do you know who?" she asked.

"No," Black asked with a shake of her head.

It was almost on the tip of her tongue to ask whether she was going to tell a Professor, but Hermione knew better. She wouldn't tell a Professor, she hadn't told anyone at the orphanage when she was hurt, and Hermione had a feeling that Black was the same.

She didn't like to think that they had similarities.

She watched the other girl pick her bag, wincing through clenched teeth as if she was trying her best to push back the pain and not show any weakness.

It was so very typical Slytherin. Enough so that Hermione almost rolled her eyes.

Almost.

"Well as charming as this has been if we don't get a move on we will both be out past curfew."

Hermione watched the other girl hobble past her with a frown, perhaps she had been too quick to judge Black with the other Slytherins.

 _I know broken bones._

She hadn't been pampered or grown up with lush riches. She had grown up on the streets and in the Pit.

Perhaps, she had been unfair, and it was clear that Black had gained some enemies, enemies that weren't her.

Not that it lessened the desire to beat the girl.

To show the Headmaster that _she_ Hermione was the best of the best and worthy of his apprenticeship.

It wasn't just her dream.

It was her mission, and that made it all the more necessary.

Black had her secrets clearly, but then so did she.

Perhaps even more.

Hermione glanced backwards over the shoulder in the direction Black had hobbled off in.

She was going to have to pay closer attention to Black.

Dreams aside she had a mission she couldn't fail, and Black was the biggest threat to that mission.

Iron will determination settled with her.

Hermione wouldn't fail.

She wouldn't fail herself, and she wouldn't fail Professor Doge.


	16. Chapter 16

AN: Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, added to alerts and favourites, your support is fully appreciated and helps keep me motivated.

I have yet had the chance to reedit the previous chapter too caught up with seeing this one finished and posted.

The context in this chapter has been taken from various sources of researching and adapting it to suit my purpose. No offence is intended.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Chapter 15 - **Samhain**

Holly was grateful, the following morning that she had been correct in her statement to Doge, her arm wasn't broken. Sure it was swollen, tender and hurt like hell, but it wasn't broken.

And that was a blessing she was willing to take, broken bones took forever to heal, and the slightest nudge in the wrong direction would set the healing back by weeks.

With a sigh Holly pulled her sleeve down over the makeshift bandage, carefully tucking the end of the bandage further down before she gathered the rest of her things for the day. The last thing she needed was anyone to question her over her arm.

Not when she didn't know who was responsible.

She supposed the only person she could rule out with any certainty was Doge. Unless Doge was an excellent actress and the girl certainly didn't give that impression.

Holly sighed again; Hogwarts had become a little more complicated, what with Parkinson's accusation against her and now an unknown assailant.

The spell that had hit her to a degree was harmless, but the fall could have killed her, and she was pretty certain that was the intention, which meant it wasn't a harmless prank either.

Carefully she smoothed a strand of hair into position to hide the cut on her forehead. When the bleeding had finally stopped, it showed that the cut itself wasn't deep and would hardly scar. Barely more than a scratch if she was going, to be honest, but the head wounds always bled the worst. She hadn't wanted to go back to Riddle to ask him to heal her. The reliance she had on him was too disturbing to acknowledge out loud let alone allow herself become habitual with it. Not to mention she hadn't wanted to deal with the lecture that would have followed, he had warned her more than once that not everybody would be friendly here. She hadn't been naive to think they would be, but she had been naive in the methods they would use. Thinking compared to the dangers of the Warren, she would be better prepared to face the risks here.

She had been wrong, her arrogance blinding her.

It wasn't a mistake she was going to make again; she needed to go back to her roots that had allowed her to survive in the Warren, the razor sharpness that had ensured she had lived. She needed to stop thinking of everyone as children when in the Warren _she had known better._

Children were equally as deadly as the adults.

Why she thought Hogwarts would have been any different, she didn't know, or maybe she had given way to the idea that _they_ magical children hadn't needed to fight for survival so it would have made them softer.

It had, but it had also made them accustomed to getting their own way and not liking for one second when they didn't get it.

It was time to step up her game.

* * *

Holly felt like a bug trapped in a jar for all to see, as she joined the rest of her housemates for breakfast. She felt eyes everywhere; her shoulder blades itched under the weight of them, almost as if something was burrowing under her skin and she couldn't pick them out.

It made her twitch and took all her power to keep her face smooth of emotion as she took her seat next to Daphne, ensuring she showed no weakness and her injury was hidden. Someone or rather multiple someones, as she spotted Doge's analysing gaze across the hall were watching. Holly had no doubt, Doge excluded, that at least one set of those watching eyes was responsible for tripping her.

So as she planted a smile on her face and chattered away happily to Daphne, Blaise and Theo, only in part pretending to be the bumbling first-year that she was, and in part actually enjoying the conversation and company.

It was perhaps how Holly found herself caught by surprise somewhat when an owl, during the morning post, dropped a letter in front of her. What didn't surprise her, when she finally recovered from the shock of receiving something, was the contents of the letter.

 _Detention at 8 pm. My office, do not be_ _late!_

 _Professor Snape._

Daphne gave her a curious look.

But Holly just shook her head once. _Not here._

Without missing a beat, Daphne claimed she needed to go to the library to finish of Transfiguration homework and before Holly could even finish her croissant she was being ushered out of the Great Hall.

The upside, at the very least there would be fewer eyes watching her. It was a small blessing.

"Well?"

"Anyone ever tell you you're awful nosy?"

"I prefer the term inquisitive," Daphne answered with a glint in her eyes that told Holly she was teasing her yet again.

"They are the same thing," Holly pointed out.

"True, but one does sound so much more sophisticated doesn't it?"

"Oh yes, how could I forget, as long as we are sophisticated we aren't doing anything wrong," Holly replied dryly, with a roll of her eyes.

"Catching up aren't you. Besides, there is nothing wrong with asking questions."

Holly smiled at her, shaking her head in amusement.

"It's informing me of my detention with Snape, this evening."

Daphne seemed to buzz with anger at the thought, "Well that is entirely undeserved, but then father always says that the world often skews what is deserved and to who deserves it."

"Funny there was a saying of similar meaning in the Warren, only it went something along the lines of, life's a bitch, and then you die."

Daphne wrinkled her nose ever so slightly, "how poetic, though I suppose it does hold some element of truth, though I am sure there are other ways it could be said."

Holly grinned at the other girl.

"Don't laugh at me Holly," Daphne warned.

"I'm not," she lied.

"Yes you are," Daphne huffed.

Holly chuckled.

"I will deny it if you ever bring it up."

Holly held up her hands in surrender, "your secret's safe with me. It shan't pass my lips you agreed with anything that could come from the Warren."

"Shall not," Daphne corrected before she could stop herself, and then huffed again, "sometimes you really are impossible."

"You wouldn't be the first to say."

Daphne hummed in agreement as they entered the library, quickly finding them a secluded area near the Transfiguration section.

"So what part did you need to finish up on your Transfiguration homework?"

"Oh, nothing. I finished already, but there was a weird energy in the Great Hall today, did you notice?" Daphne answered as she pulled a textbook off one of the shelves.

"Depends on your definition of weird energy," Holly shrugged, wondering if she hadn't been the only one to notice the eyes on her.

Daphne gave her a look over the top of the book.

A look that most definitely said _don't_ be stupid.

"So it may have been a little weird, almost as if someone was watching - us," Holly decided against using 'me' at the last moment.

"More than one person I would say, though Doge was observing you with an interest I haven't seen her direct at anyone before."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"If you hadn't noticed Holly, then you didn't deserve to be told," Daphne answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Holly couldn't argue with that logic after all the only person who could save her was in fact herself. Only she really had her best interests at heart.

"Did you notice any particular direction they were coming from?"

"No."

Holly mentally sighed, that didn't help her at all. The only thing it confirmed in the truth was that she wasn't going mad and that someone or someone's was actually watching her.

It made her feel even more uncomfortable.

Footsteps made her look up from the table to see Doge walking towards her. Holly tensed, mentally preparing herself for the questions that were bound to crop up.

She noted Daphne glancing between the two of them, a crinkle in her forehead as if she was concentrating on what she could possibly be missing.

"You didn't go to the hospital wing did you?" the question was out of Doge's mouth before she even stopped at the table. No hello, no small talk. Straight on the attack.

Daphne raised her eyebrow, "Hospital Wing, why would you need to go to the Hospital Wing?"

Mentally Holly sighed, not that she had a chance to answer, as Doge answered for her.

"Because she was attacked last night and she was injured."

There was almost smugness to the answer, but then maybe Holly imagined it. Though from the anger that was vibrating from Daphne, Holly knew that wasn't the case.

She groaned, aloud.

Causing both girls to turn and look at her.

"I'm fine, thank you, Doge. No, I didn't go to the Hospital Wing, but as I stated last night no broken bones."

Holly gathered picked up her bag and stood, carefully avoiding putting a strain on her injured arm.

"Now, as fun as this little chat has been, we really do need to get to class."

Without looking at Daphne, Holly turned down one of the aisles, well aware that Daphne was close on her heels.

"Were you going to tell me you had been injured," the other girl hissed.

Holly shrugged, "Nope."

"And why not?"

"Because it was easier not to say anything. Seriously, it isn't a big deal."

"Isn't a big deal! Honestly Holly," Daphne sniped, before moving in front of her and barring the way. Hands on hips anger blazed in her blue eyes, "Show me!"

"Come again?" Holly asked, surprised in the concern that crossed Daphne's face.

"Show me Holly, or I will cast stinging hexes at you until you comply."

"Wouldn't that just make it worse?"

"Holly!"

"Alright," Holly sighed, more to herself than anything. Shifting the weight of her bag onto her shoulder more she pulled her sleeve up on her left arm. Carefully Daphne unwrapped the bandage with surprising gentleness, despite the ferocity of her tone.

Her left arm was swollen and a little red, but not too much that she was too concerned, yet.

"As much as I am loath to agree with Doge, you do need to go to the Hospital Wing for this," Daphne sighed, as she wrapped up the arm again.

"I really don't. Plus it will just be awkward and uncomfortable. It will be all better in a couple of days," Holly argued.

Daphne gave her a look that said she didn't believe her for a second.

"Have it your way, but if it is still troubling you by tomorrow, _you_ are going to the Hospital Wing."

Holly smiled ever so slightly, "I didn't realise you cared so much."

"Shut up," the other girl replied, before turning on her heels and heading towards their lesson.

* * *

Holly arrived at Snape's office with an escort.

Daphne had told both Blaise and Theo about her 'attack', and the three of them had stuck to her like glue ever since. It was almost suffocating, if not somewhat reassuring. Of course, that didn't mean they weren't at risk either, but safety in numbers.

"Well, this is where I leave you," Blaise smirked.

"You sure, I mean I'm sure Snape won't mind an extra body for whatever my punishment will be?"

He laughed at her before leaving her in front of the office.

 _Charming,_ she mused.

She knocked on the door and waited for Snape's call of entry. The room was equally as gloomy as it had been her first venture to it.

"Sit!"

The order left no room for doubt or argument. Snape stared at her, his black eyes weighing and judging. Whether he found her lacking, Holly couldn't say.

"A serious accusation has been brought to my attention, Miss Black. Miss Parkinson has claimed you stole a bracelet, and upon searching your bag Prefect Selwyn witnessed said bracelet found in your possession."

Holly didn't respond, not that he had asked her to. As it stood on those grounds with that evidence, she was guilty. Very guilty.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Holly looked at him, she knew that she could defend herself, argue her case and her point, but what was the point? The evidence was against her, and that was what mattered. People had already made up their minds, she wasn't going to beg or plead with them to change it. Riddle may have claimed that Snape was aware of the truth, but that didn't mean it would save her. He would need to punish her in some way if only to make an example of her.

"No, Sir," she answered, choosing the only option she felt she had available to her.

He didn't blink, not once as he stared at her.

"Very well," he sighed, or almost sighed, it was hard to tell with the man, "I have no other choice then. You will be serving detention every Monday evening, for the remainder of the term. Provided there are no other accusations brought against you then come to the New Year I will hear no more about it. However, if such case does happen again then it will be marked on your official report," Snape paused, "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Follow me, Miss Black. Your detention isn't going to be writing lines."

Holly followed closely behind Snape as he made his way through the dungeons and up to the upper levels of the castle. Only stopping outside a room that Sleuw the caretaker stood guarding.

Or at least he appeared to be guarding, he could very well be asleep as far as Holly could tell.

Snape didn't even so much as acknowledge the other man as he pushed past and entered the room. A room that was full to the brink with trophies. Trophies of all different sizes and shapes.

It was only when Holly stopped herself short of barrelling into the back of Snape that she realised she was not entirely alone in the room. Already there, busy scrubbing at the trophies hard enough to make them gleam and glisten were two red-headed Gryffindors that could only be the Weasley Twins. They glanced up at Snape neutral expressions remaining firmly in place.

"You will be joining these two miscreants in cleaning and polishing the trophies," Snape paused, only to smirk ever so slightly before adding, "Without magic. Mr Sleuw is standing guard to ensure that remains the case, do not think for a moment that you can slack off. Do I make myself clear Miss Black?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered.

He nodded once, before turning on his heels, his robe swooping behind him. The door shut with a thud behind him.

She turned to face the twins; perhaps with their company, her detention wouldn't be so bad.

Identical grins split across their faces.

"Hear that Forge, he called us miscreants," Gred said.

"Ah, Gred, I did. We can do better than that though, can't we dear brother," Forge answered.

"Aye, that we can Forge, that we can," Gred agreed, before turning to look at her. "Kitten, a pleasure as always. Dare we inquire how it came to be under such tedious circumstances?"

Holly smiled at the both of them, as she bent down to grab a cloth and start scrubbing clean the nearest trophy to her. She didn't mind hard labour, not in the same way that others might.

"Wrong place, wrong time," she said with a shrug.

"Ah, of course, it is always the case, we say so many a times, of course after the third or thirtieth time the excuse just doesn't seem to wash quite the same way," Forge, or Gred, she couldn't say for certainty replied.

"Indeed dear brother, awful shame really, anyone would think we are up to no good, and as good -" they continued before the other one interrupted them.

"Brilliant, brother, as brilliant as we are." Throwing her a wink.

The first continued, "Right, as brilliant as we are, we really can't be doing everything they think we are doing all the time."

"Though it does pose for possibilities doesn't it, Forge."

"Oh, always Gred. Possibilities is one of our favourite words, if not our favourite word."

"No Forge, opportunity is our favourite word."

"Are you sure?" Forge asked with a frown, "I could have sworn it was possibilities."

"Opportunity makes the possibilities possible," Gred answered with a nod.

"Try saying that five times as fast as you can."

Holly stared at them, barely able to keep up as they passed back and forth quicker than a duel. Both of them started saying it as fast as they could, eager to outdo the other. She felt a headache starting.

"What have you two done to end up with a detention?" she asked, cutting across the fourth attempt at saying the sentence.

"Oh, we blew up the girl's toilets, it didn't quite go to plan," Forge replied off handily as he continued to scrub at the trophy in his hand.

Holly blinked, "why would you do that?"

"Experimenting a product of our creation, only we added a little too much of a something, something and the explosion got a little out of control."

"And I thought my thievery was daring," she chuckled.

"Thievery, pray tell?" they asked.

Holly grimaced, before explaining what happened.

"It's all very fishy," Gred said after she had finished.

"Indeed dear brother, indeed. All very sneaky, very Slytherin."

"I won't take that as an insult," she said dryly.

"You're the exception to the rule Kitten, besides you're our Slytherin," Forge corrected.

"Thanks, I think."

She moved to pick up another trophy, using her left arm without thinking and wincing in pain as her hand gave way to the weight of the trophy.

She couldn't stop the cry that escaped her lips either.

"Kitten?" the question was laced with concern.

"It's nothing," she bit out.

"Kitten?"

She was vaguely aware of one of the twins approaching her, but she wasn't sure which one for certainty.

"Let me see."

They pulled her arm up, carefully pulling back her robe sleeve and undid the bandage. Both of them inspected her arm carefully, sharing a look she had no chance of deciphering before looking at her.

"It isn't broken," she defended.

"We can see that, we are quite the experts in broken bones if we do say so ourselves. But _there_ is some damage. More than just a sprain, or it wouldn't be so inflamed. Why haven't you been to the Hospital Wing?"

Holly rolled her eyes, "You're the third person to ask me that. I'm all right."

"No you aren't, it's only going to get worse if you don't do something about it. What do you think Fred?" George asked, all trace of humour gone.

"You're better at the spell than me. Of course, if we screw it up we could make it worse," Fred answered.

"Right you are, Fred, right you are. Okay Kitten, listen to me. I can attempt to heal your arm, but because the injury is more internal than external, it will be difficult to see _how healed_ it will be."

Holly nodded, in understanding aware that Fred was holding her tightly, so she didn't jerk suddenly.

"It's going to feel funny, but it won't hurt exactly."

 _Comforting,_ Holly thought, but if it helped she was more than willing to accept it.

He snapped something out in Latin that Holly had difficulty catching. He was right her arm didn't exactly hurt, but it felt strange as the magic took hold. It tingled and itched, and something wriggled and moved under her skin. Like she was being knitted back together.

Her arm throbbed, and while the swelling didn't go down the moment her skin stopped rippling the ache in her wrist lessened somewhat, and the redness had given way to the natural colour of her skin.

She wiggled all of her fingers, just for good measure.

"Thank you."

George nodded once, "Like I said, it's hard to tell how healed it is going to be, so rest it for a few days, and hopefully the swelling will go down. Best to strap it up still and keep an eye on it. If it doesn't then I'm afraid we will be dragging you to the Hospital Wing."

"I think Daphne might beat you to it," she replied.

"Smart girl. So what happened?" George asked.

"I tripped."

"Last time you fell down, we ran into you Kitten, you don't exactly strike me as the clumsy type. Who tripped you?" Fred answered.

"I don't know," she sighed, "They got me from behind. It could have been anyone; it was on the third floor so it could have been anyone."

"Very fishy, with the accusation on thievery and being tripped it's all a little too convenient," George stated.

"I don't think it was Parkinson, yeah she will accuse me of stealing, but like you said that's a sneaky attack, not a direct attack on me."

"Still it does make her suspicious. Not that it matters Forge, apparently someone wants our Kitten to be hurt," Fred said sadly, "I'm afraid it leaves us no choice Kitten. We solemnly swear to be your knight protectors, and when we find out who did this, we'll have to show them what's what, Forge."

"Well, of course, we will," George said, his words casual, contrasting the steel glint in his eyes, "Or my name isn't Gred."

Holly thanked them both, and while they were still stuck cleaning trophies, there was a lightness to their conversations that Holly enjoyed. They continued to chatter about their day to day activities that made her laugh out loud more than once. She felt sorry for their poor brother who seemed at times to be the heart of their pranks. Not that anyone appeared to get off lightly, as some Ravenclaws discovered.

Overall it made her detention more bearable.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Daphne couldn't believe no one had told her.

Then she recalled what she knew of her Slytherin peers and, snorted. Who was she kidding; of course she could believe it. After all, those who didn't show open hostility mostly existed in some strange sort of limbo where they thought Holly could be trusted, and yet didn't want to reveal any of the secrets she would need to know to her, nor it would seem they could entirely forget the strange upbringing she had endured. An upbringing that both fascinated and disturbed them.

Daphne had heard the whispers, she was too... _muggle..tainted._ She would have thought by now that they would have gotten over it already. But then Daphne didn't have a very high opinion of the intelligence of many of her fellow housemates.

The others she could forgive for their ignorance...maybe...probably.

But she was surprised at Blaise and Theo.

She had expected _more_ from them.

Of course, Theo was quiet as a mouse and only really offered his opinion when he thought it would benefit the situation. Blaise was another story, but then he like _she_ didn't hold a high opinion of the rest of their housemates. While he was friendly to Holly, Daphne had yet to determine just how much Blaise was willing to risk for their growing friendship, how much he believed that Holly was something special and not just what everyone else was saying about her.

 _She is something so much more,_ not that Daphne had voiced that particular thought out loud, she dared not, though she had dared to put it to parchment and share with her father. She couldn't imagine not telling her father the truth about what she really thought and his response had confirmed what she had felt in her heart.

 _Observe and wait._

Not that she was friends with the girl solely for that reason, no, she actually liked Holly and that like had grown over the weeks, but that didn't mean she couldn't observe and see just what exactly Holly Black was made of.

Though Daphne had noticed, it did leave her in delicate situations as she found herself in now; she needed to tell Holly, needed to inform her. But if she gave too much then she ran the risk of the other girl only following her lead and being nothing more than another sheep in a world full of sheep.

The world didn't need another sheep.

Daphne had no time for another sheep.

Parkinson was a sheep, Davis was a sheep, and even Malfoy was a sheep not that he would ever see himself that way.

But if Daphne didn't say anything then it would leave Holly wholly ignorant of what was happening around her, and that was something Daphne wouldn't allow to continue.

She waited content with watching Holly busy herself with some Artificing riddle that consumed almost as much of her time as class work and homework did until Holly twitched. Indicating that she knew she was watching her, and looked up. Daphne put on her most gracious smile, the one that her mother had taught her for welcoming enemy guests.

Blaise threw her a warning glance, a look she read to easily from the other boy who was normally far harder to read. _Don't push._

It was a ridiculous assumption in Daphne's opinion. She didn't push.

"Holly," she said, "has no one invited you to tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night?" Holly looked blank. Blaise, Daphne saw from the corner of her eye, had narrowed his gaze not quite enough to burn holes through her - if she was the kind of person who paid attention to glares - but close enough that the warning he was sending _burned_ into her.

She moved her head to the side in an indication that the message had been received and understood, before turning her full attention back to Holly. Whose green eyes were studying her every move.

 _Nothing slips past her, I have to remember that, she might not know things, might not understand, but she sees pretty much most things before others do._

"Yes," Daphne began, as she leant nearer to her and lowered her voice, it wasn't so much what she was about to discuss was forbidden, it hadn't been forbidden since the Headmaster had become Headmaster, but it was still frowned upon by some to discuss with outsiders. But then how was Holly to become anything but an outsider if she didn't know. "Tomorrow night is the thirty-first of October. Samhain."

Holly blinked but gave no outward sign she recognised the name. Daphne had half hoped that she would at least recognise it, that the Headmaster would have briefly mentioned it though it seemed that wasn't the case and made Daphne wonder whether some of those rumours about him not being a true follower were true.

"Samhain?" Holly asked.

Daphne nodded, "It is a festival marking the end of the harvest and the beginning of winter. But it is _more_ than just that. Samhain is seen as a liminal time when the mundane laws of time and space are temporarily suspended, and the Thin Veil between the worlds is lifted. Traditionally it is seen as a Dark wizard's festival -"

"Daphne!" Blaise cut across her. She threw him a look which he returned with one of his own, and she found herself in a test of wills.

"I don't understand what happens," Holly broke in gently. At least she had the capability of gracefully interrupting, skills she would need. "I know we are having a feast tomorrow night, is that some way connected?"

Daphne sighed, turning away from Blaise, though not because she thought he was right and she was wrong but because Holly deserved her full attention and the truth.

"It's complicated, Holly," she murmured, dropping her voice again, forcing the other girl to lean closer. "Long ago there was a particular way of life that was followed; people nowadays tend to refer to them as the Old Ways, but back then it was something we lived and breathed. Over the many centuries, though more and more people started turning their back on the Old Ways, some claimed they were too wild, too dark, and too dangerous and with that, they began outlawing certain customs, individual beliefs. Until the Old Ways were forbidden to practice openly and those that followed them were considered Dark witches and wizards which just complicates things even more."

"I don't understand," Holly said.

"Light magic and Dark magic weren't always seen as they are now. They were respected equally and in balance. You had some wizard and witches that declared themselves one over the other, but they still balanced each other out. The year itself was split into a light half and the dark half of the year," Blaise answered before Daphne could even open her mouth. "Samhain is the beginning of the dark half of the year and to a degree is a night that dark wizards and witches are at their strongest."

"But people for centuries see the Dark ways as evil and that the people that proclaim themselves dark are then, in fact, are evil. It is why there have been so many wars in the past. A Light Lord or Lady against a Dark Lord or Lady, what people have forgotten is that the Dark isn't evil. It just -" Daphne paused, tilting her head to the side ever so slightly. She had gone off track, but it needed to be explained for Holly to understand, she just wasn't how to word it.

"The Dark aren't afraid to embrace the darker aspects of life. It is wild and at times unpredictable, and for the unprepared, it can be terrifying and dangerous. But what the Light forgets is all magic can hurt Holly, all magic can kill, and while Dark magic can be more destructive, it isn't evil," Daphne added.

"So Samhain was outlawed?" Holly frowned.

"All of the festivals were both light side and dark side. Certain individuals didn't believe that following the Old Ways was right, they felt it was too...dangerous to do so, as it gave a witch or wizard more power than they perhaps should have. Didn't give them enough control."

"And yet you are openly telling me about it now?"

"Since the rule of the Lord Emperor - the Dark One, the Old Ways have been allowed to be practised openly. At least here in Britain for the last ten years - though there are those that still fear what they don't understand. But since the Headmaster became the Headmaster, Hogwarts has been allowed to participate in the festivals for those students that wish to partake in them."

"So what happens then?"

Daphne smiled, "Traditionally Samhain is seen as a festival where the veil between the worlds is lifted allowing communication with ancestors and departed loved ones more easily; even those who aren't ghosts. We may not _see_ the spirits of the departed without the proper sacrifices, which not many are willing to make," Daphne shrugged, "but everyone can see the magic of the dead on this night; even muggles. It's why there are so many stories of wandering lost souls seen. But the magic of the dead can lead to those who are willing to listen and look, allow you a brief glimpse of your future. Only the most fleeting glimpse, mind you, but a glimpse never the less."

"Though it is ill advised to take too much stock into it, as the there are many possible futures for each of us," Blaise added.

Daphne nodded her head in agreement. "From listening to some of the older years, Hogwarts celebrations are quite unusual, I've only been invited to a few larger gatherings with my parents, but typically we just celebrate it amongst ourselves."

"So the feast tomorrow?"

"Is marking the beginning of the festival - when the sunsets. There will be enough food for the _dead,_ as well so we will be able to take something as an offering after we finish. Hogwarts will have flames barring the entrances from any - unwanted guests."

"I won't pretend I know what it means, Daphne, but I would like to find out," Holly said slowly. Daphne could feel the air shift ever so slightly as the girl's magic unfurled itself. Not threateningly, but more of mild curiosity. It was rather fascinating to witness and from Blaise shivering suddenly she wasn't the only one to notice. But silently she cheered to herself.

Holly was powerful; Daphne knew that had known that from the moment she met her and the girl had voiced she could see the wards of Hogwarts - how powerful though was the question? Just as others could feel it as well, though the older years may not say anything - they watched, and they waited. As young as Holly was it was too soon to see whether it would go anywhere and she was nothing more than an early bloomer because of her upbringing or if it meant something so much more.

Daphne secretly hoped it meant something more. Hoped with all her being. She may only be eleven years old, but she was her father's daughter and heir, and she _knew_ that a storm was coming and that her father was worried. And just maybe Holly would be able to ease that worry.

From the look Blaise shared with her, Daphne didn't think for a second she was the only one that was hoping something where Holly was concerned.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Samhain.

Holly couldn't say she fully understood what it meant or what was to happen within the festivities that Daphne had spoken about so passionately, but it had captured her attention to find out more.

Not that she had had the time to explore the library in depth.

The questions that had risen in her mind while Daphne had explained the previous night had given one clear answer, or at least to her, she would only find out more about the path of the Old Ways if she attended festivities tonight.

To see what it was really all about.

Dawn breaking brought a bubbling kind of anticipation that Holly was surprised to see affected so many of her housemates. Not quite as composed as they usual selves within the safety of their common room. Eyes glistened with amusement and excitement, and laughter spilt easily amongst them, and the energy overall changed.

Like they had all suddenly been shocked with a charge that connected them all.

But it was more than just that, as the day slowly passed, heaviness grew in the air, her back almost itched at it, gradually getting worse that it made her want to tear her hair out or her skin off. Holly found it difficult to concentrate in classes and magic that came quickly to her call came even quicker and was considerably more charged and less controlled.

Almost as if the very magic itself was changing to match the mood that seemed to have taken hold of the castle.

As the sun set and the feast in the castle began, Holly was ready to scream from the pressure that was building around her. When she tried to explain it to Daphne and Blaise what she felt they had only looked at her and said it was magic and that some were more sensitive to it than others.

They felt something too, but whether because they were used to the festival and practising the magic or because they weren't feeling it in the same way they seemed far more relaxed than she felt.

Holly felt as if her skin was crawling.

It took all her willpower not to fidget where she sat.

Instead, she schooled her features into a mask of indifference as she focused on the conversations around her and enjoyed the food in front of her. Taking notes on the subtle difference between this feast and the previous feast held at Hogwarts at the beginning of the school year.

There were extra place sets all along the House tables, food piled high despite the fact they remained untouched.

Daphne leant towards her, whispering softly, "they are for us as an offering later. Think nothing more of it."

Before she resumed her conversation.

Blaise smiled softly at her, almost as if he was trying to be reassuring and yet it didn't help in the slightest. Holly was bursting with questions she wanted to ask and yet she knew now wasn't the time or the place.

As if on cue by her thoughts, students rose from the table. Holly followed Daphne's lead along with Blaise and Theo, picking up an apple from one of the empty plates and followed the others out. A glance told her that a majority of the Slytherins were leaving, as were over half of the Ravenclaws, with a smaller mix of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, though it was hard to keep track of exactly how many students rose and how many remained sitting.

Perhaps what was even more surprising was some of the Professors had followed suit along with them, exiting the castle through the main entrance and making their way down the grounds.

The sky was bright overhead, the stars glistening brightly and the moon shining with a silvery glow. A chill crept along her skin, and she huddled under her thick cloak for more protection from the night air.

"What happens now?" Holly whispered to Daphne.

"I'm not sure. I know at home we had a bonfire lit, but here it might be different," Daphne replied, the excitement evident in her tone.

A laugh from behind forced them to turn ever so slightly.

Rosier, Pucey and a few other older years were following up behind them.

"Remember not to get caught by the ghoul's firsties, they especially like the taste of fresh meat," Rosier teased.

"Rosier!" Selwyn snapped at him, the warning in the prefect's tone unmistakable, before turning to look at him, "ignore him. We will be perfectly protected, and the dead won't bother us."

"You know that isn't really reassuring, in fact, it kind of has the opposite effect right?" Holly stated.

"You can turn back now Black, and no one will think any less of you, but go much further, and you won't be able to. The Professor's take precautions to ensure both us and those that remain in the castle are safe; those precautions keep us in one place until it's over with. Breaking them is ill-advised, and being caught between the castle and the fires even more so."

It was a test; Holly knew it even without Daphne's warning glance, and one she wasn't going to rise to.

"I don't need to turn back," Holly said, meeting Selwyn's gaze with her own.

Selwyn nodded once before her gaze swept past Holly over the top of her head.

"We are here."

Here was a large open area, near the lake edge. To the left the Forbidden Forest boundary meeting the lake, looking gloomy and _forbidding._ But as far as Holly could see there were no bonfires.

"I don't understand," Holly murmured.

"Hogwarts has wards Black, wards that protect it, we are just over the edge of the wards, so we will be able to get to where are going from here."

"It's not on school grounds?" Daphne asked in surprise.

"Merlin no," Selwyn whistled, "The Headmaster may have been able to ensure the Old Ways could be practised by the school children, but it was made very clear that it wasn't to be on school grounds."

"So what happens?"

Selwyn smiled at them, "You are about to find out. Patience little first years and remember not to embarrass yourselves or your house."

Holly looked at Daphne in confusion and could see the same confusion in the over girls eyes. What exactly did it mean she couldn't say, but it made Holly all the warier.

Riddle stepped forward of those that had gathered, Holly blinked in surprise, she hadn't even realised he joined in with the festival. Not that she asked him, but he didn't give the impression that he would be one to follow such traditions.

In his hand he held an object, it was hard to make out clearly what it was exactly only that it was dark and pointed; almost as if it rose from his hand like a pyramid.

Daphne gasped in surprise, "Obelisk Stone!"

"A what?" Holly asked.

"An Obelisk Stone."

"And for those of the class that still don't have a clue what that means?" Holly said dryly.

"An Obelisk Stone is created from Wild Magic. I've just heard stories, I have never seen one. Everyone presumes they were destroyed at the beginning of the Blood Wars," Daphne replied, barely louder than a whisper, but her voice carried to those close enough to hear causing whispers to break out.

"What is so unique about the Stone?" Holly asked, mentally adding Blood Wars and Wild Magic to a list of things she needed to look up. She had lost track over the last few weeks over what she had added or not, but both concepts tonight seemed important enough she needed to know more.

 _No, I need to know more._

"Some say they are connected to the Beyond. They are supposed to call to the magic inside of you, the dark magic. It is whispered even that they are able to transport you from one place to another, but -" Daphne stopped, almost as if she was at a loss for words or that she couldn't find the right ones to finish.

Not that she needed to. Whatever was about to happen was starting, as Riddle breathed onto the stone in his hands, trails of light glowed along the stone.

Within seconds the light shone brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat, it spun and wiggled about. Holly found it difficult to focus on and yet she dared not look away.

Without warning, Riddle placed the stone on the floor and stepped back.

Silver rays pulsed, penetrating the growing darkness, gradually growing in size and lighting up everyone's faces that were gathered. Holly was aware in the back of her mind that the stone was growing in size, but she couldn't say for certain. Despite not being able to pull her eyes away and suddenly the whole world was spinning.

Her magic was creeping out of her, rising off her body like mist. The stone, whatever it was, was calling to her magic, and her magic answered unfurling like an animal from slumber. Stretching and reaching.

But it wasn't just her own magic she could feel, Holly could feel the magic from the witches and wizards around her doing the same thing. Blaise seemed to be glowing in an eerily light. Daphne's magic rose singing around her almost as if nightingales were emanating from her.

The light slanted away from the stone like a fire roaring to life and came down around them. Forming what looked like an enormous net in the air that grew and grew until it met with the earth beneath their feet. Holly had the impression that things were changing rapidly behind the silver net, but she couldn't remove her gaze from the stone to make sure, nor could she be certain of what was up and what was down. The stone was growing, absorbing her gaze and Holly had the insistent urge to reach out and touch it. It was the magic of a kind she had never felt before. It was powerful and chaotic and yet despite that Holly couldn't help but feel as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It was freeing. Like the chains of Order had been lifted and she was suddenly free. Dangerous but not malicious. And at the very heart was Riddle, whose magic contrasted like a dark black hole next to the shining silver light. It was intoxicating and equally as powerful as the magic radiating from the stone and Holly for a brief moment felt lost in that darkness as it reached out to her own magic and brushed against it slightly. She trembled in its wake, and her magic flared brightly as her skin prickled.

"Here we are!" Selwyn laughed, her lips split into a grin from ear to ear, and her cheeks looked flushed and rosy.

Holly didn't ask where here was, as she blinked through the blinding glare of silver light as it flashed out of existence. It was evident they were standing in another place entirely. In an open clearing, where two fires roared to life at the centre. Long grass surrounded them in an almost perfect circle, and trees bordered them. Trees that could be the Forbidden Forest, but could be an entirely different forest as well.

"Where are we?" Blaise asked, between deep breaths as he attempted to gain composure. Apparently, the journey to wherever here was had taken its toll on some.

"Beyond," Selwyn answered.

"Beyond what does that mean?" Holly asked, frowning slightly at the other girl. Selwyn never actually gave straight answers, but tonight she was worse.

The prefect smiled ever so slightly, "In-between. We haven't actually left Hogwarts grounds, we just shifted slightly. Did you notice we were outside the wards, but still at a boundary point? Where water meets earth and forest meets air and magic ends."

"That doesn't make sense."

"No," Selwyn shrugged, "I don't suppose it does. I've never really thought about it. I just know I am not on Hogwarts grounds, but at the same time, I haven't really left. But don't worry little first years, you're about to experience your first Samhain."

And with a yelp of excitement, Selwyn threw herself forward towards the roaring fires, laughing loudly as others joined in. Holly had never seen her fellow housemates so relaxed than they were tonight. She felt a hand reach for hers and looked in surprise at Daphne. Holly couldn't say if the other girl was nervous or if she was just reaching to drag her in the excitement. Without thinking Holly took Daphne's hand and ran with her closer to the fires.

Holly staggered but quickly regained her balance. A subtle touch of hysteria had gripped her. It was very, very easy Holly found, not to think about all the worries that she had to think about when she was at Hogwarts.

She felt _free_.

So free that she never wanted it to end.

Holly flung herself down in front of the fires with the others. The flames crackled and flared entwining with each other. Further away it had looked like one roaring fire but now sitting in front of it, Holly could see two burning fires, with a gap, just big enough for a person to pass through, separating them. Provided that person wasn't afraid to get burned.

She lifted her hand and reached towards to the flames, they licked past it, feeling warm and gentle rather than scorching. Holly shuddered and then laughed.

And then she found she couldn't stop.

So she laughed and laughed until her breath came short and her throat was sore.

Holly took a deep breath, caught Daphne's eye, who she noted was equally as breathless as she was, and asked, "Why are we feeling like this? Why am I feeling like this?"

"Because of the magic," Daphne sighed almost dreamlike, "it's all around us."

Holly looked up sharply in surprise, but why she wasn't sure because now that Daphne had pointed it out, Holly could see it, feel it. That part of her that could sense magic.

It rippled through her like warm water, or rather like she floating in an endless sea. She couldn't see or feel the bottom. It was almost nerving. And yet it felt right nearly as much as it felt wrong. Reassuring even to know that the magic was so vast and so...her thoughts failed her, but she nodded to show Daphne she at least understood even if she couldn't quite put it into words.

Not that she would have a chance as silence fell over the clearing, and the students slowly began to stand. Holly stood, helping Daphne up, and wondered just what was to come next.

 _Patience. Caution. Too much can go wrong here,_ the voice warned and Holly couldn't help but agree, not that her paranoia could actually rule when her excitement rumbled through her.

Riddle stepped forward, along with the other Professors that had joined them. _Snape_ and other Professors she couldn't name.

"We gather here in this sacred place to remember those that have passed," Riddle began, his words whispered, carrying across the clearing as if he was shouting, the night air had quieted, and there was a stillness. As if the magic itself was listening and waiting.

"This is the night that the circle turns. This is the night the magic returns, the night when the magic renews. This is the night where the Dark rises, and the Light gives way as the Sun falls. This is the night where we live and pay our dues. In living we die - in dying we live. The circle ever turns."

Riddle lifted his hands high, "there is magic coming again. There is power coming again."

Holly blinked in surprise as an explosion of lights burst across the sky. Almost as if they had come out of Riddle's hands. It rained down on them in a shower of dust, though as Holly looked closer, she could almost say they were butterflies with silver wings fluttering down. It shook her to the depths of her being, and her magic looked on; head raised like a wolf ready to howl.

And howl it did.

The atmosphere changed as the butterflies fell, from sombre to abruptly chaotic. Holly felt the dance begin the moment her magic howled, felt her feet moving as wild music poured out of the air, surrounding them and snaring them and pulling them on, as it painted a picture before their very eyes.

Holly dared not blink as she danced, vaguely aware that she was spinning and turning with Blaise around the fire, but focused on what she saw _beyond_ , a painted picture of a bloody battle unfolding before her. Where a man dressed all in light sacrificed himself to a woman dressed all in black.

She danced opposite Daphne, who was grinning from ear to ear. Then she was opposite Rosier, and then again Draco. She couldn't keep up and she deep down she should be starting to feel tired, and yet she didn't feel tired at all. Holly threw her head back and laughed, a sound that startled her, but she found now she had started she couldn't stop. The magic pulsed inside of her and an image of a pack of wolves dancing around each other came to mind almost instantly. Yipping and howling in excitement as they played on a snowy white bank.

She could almost feel the cold creeping across her skin.

She wasn't sure where the image came from, yet dared not probe or question further, content in letting the magic wash over her, and her feet dance the night away.

Black silhouettes of beasts and people were springing down the clearing and rising up from the ground between their feet, all moving towards the crackling silver fires.

Daphne's words returned to Holly, _"Everyone can see the magic of the dead, even muggles..."_

And as much as Holly didn't want to believe it she knew deep down these unique forms was the magic of the dead. She could make out the shadow of a dragon, and a winged horse. And then there were the people, ghostly silvery light people that swirled around the fire, joining with the dancers, brushing against them. Holly continued to dance and felt her heart beat that little faster as a pale ghostly figure took her hands in his and danced with her.

 _Fear gripped his heart, and it nearly sickened him. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to die, and yet he knew that if he did not that Isabella would, and for her, he was willing to sacrifice all._

And then the man shaped ghost spun her to the next dance partner that she was more than relieved to say was a solid warm-blooded living person. Only to look up in shock as Riddle's eyes met her own.

"They are memories, nothing more. Memories they have deemed to share with you," Riddle whispered quietly.

"It felt real," Holly whispered back.

"It was, once upon a time, but they are just memories of the dead now. And tonight, here and now, they can't hurt you."

Holly wouldn't lie and say she found it reassuring, the opposite in fact but the warm presence of Riddle was reassuring. He was living and breathing and allowed her for the brief moment that they spun around for her to gather herself before she twirled to the next dance partner.

Another ghost, this one towered over her, dressed in a cloak that looked to be made of feathers, though she couldn't determine what kind of feathers from the bright glow. He took her hands in his and Holly felt frozen almost instantly.

 _Pain spasmed up his arms, and his skin began to crack and split, and blood and blackness seeped out of open wounds. Plague bearer, rotting curse, were thoughts that crossed his mind. He looked up in fear as the taste of rot hit the back of his throat. He was dying, but that didn't matter, not really he had done it. He had created the plague and now those who had caused him pain would suffer unimaginable pain. He laughed and laughed as his body slowly decayed around him..._

Holly gagged, as she pulled herself out of the memory, feeling cold and dead inside. She had stopped dancing; the memory breaking whatever had hold of her, to begin with. Her wolves surrounded her, growling in warning as the pale man stood in front of her. Plague bearer. He had created a goddamn fucking Plague, and yet staring at him Holly could see the decay of his ghostly form, his skin an empty shell cracked and blistered as he had been in life. The power he must have wielded was unimaginable and yet he had still died.

Holly coughed as the taste of rot still lingered in the back of her throat. Her wolves growled again. She reached for them, almost on instinct knowing that they weren't there and yet feeling them all the same anyway. They crackled with energy, and one touch lifted the taint the memory had left her with. The ghost lifted his head up and laughed at her.

 _Go to hell,_ she silently spat, and from the look, he sent her Holly knew he had heard.

 _You are young yet little lady and have much to learn. Easy for the taking if it is decided you are to be kept._ His voice echoed through her skull, dripping with power. Power like Riddle had, only more as the Plague Bearer was dead and Samhain was all about the dead.

 _What do you want from me?_

Others were crying out around her, as the memories took them, but Holly paid them no mind as she battled wills with the Plague Bearer.

 _What we all want from you, little lady. Walk the path._

Holly had no idea what the ghost meant, but she didn't have the time to question him as he leapt high into the air, along with the other ghostly shapes and vanished.

Holly was grateful that she wasn't the only one visibly shaking on the ground as she glanced around. It wasn't just her that had been affected deeply by the memories she had been shown.

Daphne and Blaise were by her side, and together they rose.

"I wasn't expecting that when you said everyone can see the magic of the Dead," she whispered to Daphne, who looked far paler than her usual self.

"It was more intense than I had expected, perhaps because it was such a larger gathering than I am used to."

"How much more is left?"

"Not much, there is just the offering now, I think," Daphne answered, though she didn't look as confident as she had done when talking about the festival the previous night.

Holly followed their lead as they walked closer to the fire, already others were gathering around, and Holly was more than relieved to feel the warmth of the flames chase away that last remaining coldness of the dead. It had almost felt as if ice had gripped her very soul.

The Professors moved first, offering thanks to the dead before tossing their chosen 'food offering' into the burning flames.

"I give thanks," Holly whispered to the fire, when it was her turn, not caring if they were the exact words or not before tossing an apple into the fire. A chuckle echoed in her mind; a sharp reminded of her brief encounter with the Plague Bearer.

As the last offering was thrown into the fires, the flames abruptly flared to life, upwards into the night sky, until the passage that had separated them was entangled and entwined with dancing flames, slowly taking shape until a doorway appeared.

Holly blinked in surprise and frowned.

 _What the hell?_

Daphne hissed in surprise but didn't voice her opinion as Riddle stepped forward.

"The time has come for those who wish to walk the path may do so. To walk the path is to be unbound. Whoever enters is alone, for none shall enter with you. To enter is to be entirely liberated, absolutely free, for one instant - body, magic, mind, heart and soul. To be cleansed."

Riddle paused, his eyes cutting across the crowd.

"This is a choice only you can make. Free of compulsion, free from force. But as with all magic, there is a price, a possibility that you will not come back. Forever lost, to the living if not the dead."

 _Oh, you have got to be kidding me!_ Holly thought. Walk the path, meant walking to her death, possibly - probably. And just maybe she would be spat back the other side. Maybe.

 _Walk the path,_ the icy voice of the Plague Bearer whispered in her mind, letting his power roll over her, Holly felt as if frost was eating away at her.

 _You walk the path,_ she hissed back.

 _Walk the path, little lady._

Holly would admit that while she was mostly nervous about the idea, a small part of her was tempted. Okay a large part of her was tempted. Freedom was what she wanted with all her heart. With all her being.

But was this the kind of freedom she needed.

 _Nothing is without risks,_ she silently mused.

"Does someone have to enter?" she whispered to Daphne.

It was Blaise that answered her, "No. It is more for ceremony and respect now. In the old days, only the Lords and Ladies walked through, or the Priests and Priestesses."

Holly glanced at them, and back to the doorway. She could feel the words of the Plague Bearer gripping her to do so, but it wasn't compelling her. It had to be her choice.

Hers alone.

Holly took a step forward, resolved.

Daphne grabbed her, forcing her to turn and face the other girl, and for the first time since she had met her, she saw alarm in the other girl's eyes.

"It isn't a joke Holly. It separates you entirely. It detaches everything until there is nothing left and in the processes, it shows you glimpses of the futures, half-truths of what could be. People have gone mad in the past from what they have seen in there. And at the end, it puts you back together, all the broken parts and it is up to you whether your whole or not, but you will be cleansed."

"I think I have to," she answered, attempting to voice what she was feeling. Daphne looked at her, really looked at her. Her blue eyes meeting Holly's green. Something crossed them, something Holly couldn't name, but the other girl nodded once, before sharing a glance with Blaise. Blaise whose eyes widened ever so slightly despite remaining as unreadable as he always was.

Holly couldn't say whether they were proud or in awe, not that it mattered anyway, but she had hoped that they would understand that something was pulling her to that door. Something beyond them all.

Her heart pounded crazily beneath her breastbone, and she was aware of eyes following her every step of the way as she moved closer and closer, weighing, judging, watching.

 _Let them, they don't matter._

And they didn't.

Riddle glanced at her in surprise, but she could see the fury blazing in his eyes.

But he couldn't stop her, not here and now. He couldn't interfere. If she survived, well she would pay that price as well.

"You risk your life freely. Enter willingly?" He asked, his voice stone cold.

"I do," Holly answered, though she was uncertain if the Plague Bearer counted as compelling her. Did the dead count?

"So be it," he nodded, before reaching for a cup that appeared as if by magic, along with seeds.

Holly frowned but dared not turn back now. She could feel the magic building around her, pressing down.

"Taste the seeds of Death," Riddle commanded, passing the seeds to her.

Holly took them and swallowed without tasting. Her stomach knotted and common sense started to eat away at her confidence. How could she explain it when half of her was telling her to turn back? She couldn't, she dared not.

"Taste the Wine of Life," Riddle said, holding the cup to her lips for her to sip.

It tasted like blood. Holly told herself it wouldn't be, couldn't be and that the magic was confusing her, but the taste, the taste was blood.

She wanted to gag.

"May magic guide you," he whispered to her, only loud enough for her to hear.

"I think it is," she answered, seeing the surprise in his eyes before she turned and walked through the doorway that had opened on its own.

And then darkness took her.

* * *

She was flying.

Her soul was soaring in the darkness that was beneath her and on either side so vast and terrible that she thought her mind would break trying to comprehend. So she didn't. She dared not.

She soared and gazed down and up and around until she could no longer tell which was which.

 _Not that it mattered,_ she thought. And the thought was loud and echoed and made her wince. Thoughts were loud in the darkness.

She soared, bound to the wind, cutting beneath her and pushed onwards, further into the darkness.

Then she was falling, whirling, spinning and dropping.

Her knees crashed to the floor, dry earth beneath her, as if it had not seen water in days, weeks, _years._

She blinked, and glanced up, a tree towered above her.

It half glistened with veins a burning fire that pulsed and glowed and radiated warmth and heat. That she could feel it from where she stood. Woven through like a giant web were strands of darkness, the darkness that was wriggling and moving and pulsing in their own way.

A tree of light and dark.

She looked around further, but all she saw was darkness, unending and wondrous.

Only the light of the tree stood out.

She blinked, her lips twisting into a grin, but then that was just her perception. Grey wolves had joined her on this lone island in a sea of darkness, shining with a silvery glow of their own as light and dark threads wove around their forms.

 _No, shaped into their forms._

They weren't wolves.

They were her magic multiplied, light and dark forever joined. They yipped and howled and bounced and danced, and she danced with them. Her own skin glowing with the magic that ran through her veins. At this moment she and her magic looked like dancing stars in a sea of darkness. Glowing light bursting from her as she touched the ground.

She laughed because at this moment she was nothing and everything.

She was magic.

She was free.

And she laughed, and laughed and found she couldn't stop laughing until she fell to the floor beneath the roots of the trees. The wolves lounging with her. One resting its head against her stomach, as she absently patted it.

Here and now she couldn't remember who she was.

Not that she cared; she was free, free to dance in the darkness, free to dance amongst the stars, marking her own passage with the fiery glow of her footprints.

It was beautiful, liberating and she never wanted it to end.

The wolves growled.

She pushed herself up to sitting, her eyes glancing around until they stopped on a figure approaching. A woman with dark black hair that was decorated with gems of light. She was wearing a white dress that stood out against the darkness like a beacon. Her skin glowing with an eerily light.

She couldn't say whether she was living or dead.

The wolves stopped growling.

Their heads held high, their bodies erect and waiting. Lips pulled back and teeth showing.

A warning.

The woman approached.

Green eyes meet green eyes.

Memories crashed through her, and Holly remembered who she was.

Holly remembered dancing with her magic, her wolves. Holly remembered so much.

The woman smiled at her, reached for her with an outstretched hand.

Holly felt her own hand rising to reach for the woman's hand. Their fingers skimmed and lightning flashed across the sky.

A sound roared in her ears, deafening, the wind whipped around them, and rain fell from the heavens.

Holly blinked, the rain was blood.

Blood rain fell from the sky.

The dirt beneath her feet wasn't dirt anymore, bodies and bones, piled high. She wobbled and lost her balance and Holly fell.

As she fell, she could see the tree of light and dark engulfed in a blaze of flames. She screamed and screamed, and her wolves howled, and her magic wept.

The world spun, turned and twisted until she was thrown forward and everything and nothing flashed before her very eyes, and slowly she was spun back together.

Holly screamed until no sound came.

She screamed until there was nothing left.

* * *

Holly found herself on the grass, on her knees, on the other side of the door. Her whole body was shaking, and tears were sliding down her face, Holly wiped them away as she climbed to her feet, and then walked around the fire to join the witches and wizards again. The fires were almost out.

Holly could feel the stares of the others, nodding and whispering amongst themselves, their voices carrying in the clearing like the loud roaring wind had done.

She found it easy to ignore them, as she made her way back to Daphne and Blaise. With them, she saw concern and something else she couldn't name. She stared up at the night sky, the stars glistening amongst the vastness. To think she had been dancing amongst them, or at least she had felt she had been dancing amongst them.

And the vision she saw.

If indeed it was a vision, Holly couldn't say she understood what she saw or even knew what it meant, but she knew it meant something...troublesome.

Danger was coming, of that, she had no doubt.

"I think we are getting ready to go back," Daphne smiled at her, a warming smile that offered her comfort in a way that Holly hadn't realised she had needed.

Holly just nodded, letting herself be pulled back into the conversations of others around her, part of her still running free amongst the stars.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Anger rumbled through him, silent and deadly, but from the nervous glance Severus threw his way, Tom knew he was at least leaking some of his feelings outward.

Fury would be closer to the truth than anger, not that he was sure who he could direct his anger to.

The logical choice was the girl, the bane of his neatly laid out plans.

The girl whose very existence was one giant complication, and yet the potential she offered was something he would not, no could not ignore.

Of course, that didn't help she went and got herself _fucking_ killed.

He had watched in seething silence as she had stepped forward to walk through the bloody door. Of all people, it had to be her.

His hands had been tied to stop her, but from their brief words, Tom knew that someone was interfering somewhere, somehow. From beyond the grave, he had no doubt.

It made the girl even more of a puzzle.

The seconds ticked by, and while on this side of the door they were only seconds, Tom knew that for Holly it would have been far longer than mere seconds.

When she reappeared, he saw the signs of distress, saw the tears wiped away quickly, and the tense way she held herself. He saw more than the others because he had learned to pay close attention.

Outwardly there was nothing to indicate that something had gone wrong, that a part of her had been left behind, she smiled at her _friends_ but mostly remained silent through the remaining moments of the festivities.

Tom breathed a sigh of relief when he was able to bring the night to a close, to activate the stone once more and shift them back to Hogwarts.  
He watched them all with a close eye as they passed back through the wards of the school keeping a careful watch to ensure nothing passed through with them. The last thing he needed was a dead stowaway in the castle.

He lingered near the back, following them up to the castle, watching the girl closely.

Still, she gave nothing away of her experiences.

He would need to ask her, he knew that.

But finding the time to do it would be the tricky part.

A scream brought him out of his thoughts, instinctively drawing his wand as he pushed his way through the students to the front.

To the source of the screams.

Parkinson and Davies were crying, clinging to each other. He suppressed the sneer as his eyes found the cause for the screams.

At Hogwarts' entrance, three students lay still on the floor. Feet to feet they formed an almost perfect circle.


	17. Chapter 17

Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, added to favourites, alerts and who have PM. Your continued support is appreciated and helps keep me motivated.

I hold up my hands and apologise as I was writing this chapter I came to the realisation that I have been spelling Elphias Doge's name with an extra D. It has now been corrected in all previous chapters.

Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Chapter 16:- **Snitches and Golems Oh My**

Responsibility.

Some said it weighed you down. It didn't weigh him down.

It never had.

But as he glanced down at the unmoving bodies of students that he was _responsible_ for, Tom couldn't help but feel for the first time the chains slowly reaching for him.

It irritated him.

Headmaster he may be, and ensuring the safety of the school was something he did without thinking a secondary thought to guarantee the safety of his stronghold, _his_ home. Without putting too much thought. But never once had he felt responsible for the children within its walls.

He had others to do that. Others to care for their wellbeing. He was only interested in ensuring the strong thrived and were loyal to him.

Of course, there had never been a cause to feel responsible for the children. Other than the daily harms that could befall them from the misuse of magic, or a natural illness there had never been a purpose of feeling responsible for their well-being.

Until now.

It didn't just irritate, it infuriated him.

From the cautious glance Severus sent his way, perhaps he hadn't masked his feelings quite as well as he had hoped. Not that he paid any attention, he was the master here, and Severus was the servant, but it didn't bode well to show weakness of any kind.

Not being in control was a weakness he could not afford.

The children that had taken part in the night's celebrations had been moved to the Great Hall with the instruction to wait there for further instruction. Professors and Prefects had been placed within the Hall, not that he thought they were needed.

Keyed into the wards as he was he had strengthened them as soon as it became apparent there was a threat.

Now it was just him, the Head of Houses, Madam Pomfrey and Doge at the entrance of the Castle. Various skill sets and all focused on their particular task that would piece together what had actually happened to the students.

Pomfrey had firmly declared _she_ would not be moving them until she had run some tests to ensure it was safe to do so, and she would hex the first person to suggest that _they_ move them instead. Despite the witch's petite frame, there was a ferocity there that very few crossed willingly.

The delay however allowed him to study the bodies.

At first glance, he could see no outward sign of injury and yet all three of them were unmoving. The only indication that they were indeed alive was the shallow breaths that were made to few and far between then he was comfortable with.

 _A curse perhaps?_

If so it would rule out all but a sixth year and above. Not to mention the staff, his eyes almost instinctively found Doge. The old wizard busying himself in some way. What use he actually was Tom couldn't say, but he preferred to have the old man in sight than to not.

"Diagnostic?" he asked. Pomfrey looked up at him sharply, a frown creasing her forehead. It had been an order, he knew that and so did the other woman.

"They are alive," she huffed.

"I can see that," he said dryly, glaring down at her.

"Most of the tests I am running have come back negative. They haven't endured any physical harm, and there is no indication that a spell has been cast on them personally," the woman answered, hesitating ever so slightly.

"Continue?"

"They are asleep. They are asleep, and they won't wake up."

"Drought of Living Death?" Severus suggested.

Pomfrey shook her head, "It would still leave a lingering sign that it was there. No potion can be found in their system, and I am unaware that the Drought of Living Death has become untraceable."

"It hasn't. It would still show in the system for forty-eight hours after administration, which would not have been the case here," Severus answered. His head tilted ever so slightly as he puzzled over the possible cause. The man's knowledge of the Dark Arts was secondary to his at Hogwarts and both were considered experts.

But Tom knew there was only one possible cause, a cause he didn't think possible, for the cost of such a curse was not one many would be prepared to accept.

He would, but he had no desire to cause harm to those in the castle and besides he preferred more direct methods.

"You are talking about the Sleeping Curse," he stated, well aware of the sharp cutting looks that were thrown his way by the Head of Houses that he had perhaps said it to callously.

"I suspect, yes. But I am unable to perform the final test here, I would need to move them," Pomfrey began, casting a look towards the unmoving bodies, "to the Hospital Wing, and consult with St Mungo's."

He nodded once, and Pomfrey took it as his permission and began casting the spells that would help move the bodies to the hospital wing.

"My Lord?" Severus asked, moving instinctively to his side.

"I want a list of every Professor who remained behind tonight, along with a list of any sixth or seventh year that could have gotten their hands on such a spell," he ordered.

"You think a student could be responsible?" Severus prodded the surprise in his tone evident. A slip up from the man who generally gave nothing away.

"Acting alone, no. But being used by another, absolutely," Tom answered, "And ensure Black is sent to my offices."

"My Lord?"

The question wasn't voiced, but it was there. Tom felt his anger bubble. _He dares question._

"She walked through the Beyond. She could have _seen_ something that holds some importance without even being aware of it."

"As you command My Lord."

"Severus!"

The other man turned to him.

"Do. Not. Question. Me. Again!"

The warning was there, clear for all to hear that dared to pay attention, and he noted that the others were doing exactly the opposite. Except for Doge, the ever judging Doge, who saw too much always.

"As you command My Lord," Severus bowed before hurrying from his presences.

Tom couldn't stop the sneer that crossed his face, he hadn't cursed the man, and it disgusted him that he hadn't, months ago such blatant lack of respect would have resulted in such an outcome. But checking his anger around the girl it seemed had rubbed off in other areas as well.

It was something he would analyse later...or never. But right now it wasn't important.

He needed answers.

Someone or something was responsible for this attack in Hogwarts.

Someone or something was taunting him.

 _Look what I can do in your home. You are powerless to stop me._

He wouldn't just kill the person responsible.

No, he would make them suffer beyond imagination, but first...first he needed answers.

* * *

Her feet were tapping. Knees bouncing when he entered his office. Stopping as soon as her green eyes spotted him.

She was seated in her usual place on the sofa by the fire, though she had ensured her body was twisted enough that she could face the door, rather than the fire.

Her face was paler than usual, and she looked somewhat shaken, but the fire that glistened in her eyes signified a power still swirling under their surface. Something more than just visions had happened when she walked through that blasted door.

She didn't speak, just watched. And for that, Tom was somewhat grateful. It allowed himself moments of silence to gather his thoughts. Despite the late hour, there was still far too much to do, and very little time.

He had left the Hospital Wing with Madam Pomfrey consulting with a Healer from St Mungo's. He had the confirmation he needed; the Sleeping Curse had been cast upon the students.

The question was how?

The Curse was often uncontrollable once cast, taking hold on all that crossed its path. He knew there were ways to shape it, construct it so only one or two people would be affected. A cursed needle or apple, just some of the examples as to how it had been used in the past.

But there had been no evidence of a wound on the children, not even a scratch from a pinprick.

Nothing.

Mentally he cursed. Without even thinking he reached for the crystallised decanter and poured himself a drink.

He was aware of the girl's eyes watching him, studying him, but still, she remained silent.

It was probably just as well, for her sake as well as his.

Though a small part of him _wished_ she would say something so he could curse her into oblivion for her stupidity.

Her _insanity_ of walking through that blasted door.

 _You will destroy what little trust you have with her if you do,_ his caution warned, and he knew it was right.

He was putting too much work into ensuring the girl trusted him fully, to curse her now. Even if he thought it would do her good, to show her the error of her ways, so she would not needlessly risk her life in such way in the future.

"You walked through the door."

It was a statement, not a question; he made it as he turned to face her. Her green eyes still held that fire of power in them only now there was more of intensity to them, a burning that hadn't been there before. He could see the telltale sign that she was getting defensive by the way her chin tilted ever so slightly, and her eyes narrowed a fraction or two.

Even now she still showed that rebellious spirit as she had done when they had first met. Oh, she had certainly been afraid of him, but she had done her damn hardest to hide it from him. Determined not to let herself be bullied.

It hadn't gone.

It would help her be formidable when he shaped it in the right way and direction.

But first, he needed to chip away everything else.

"You could have been killed," he continued, sipping his drink slowly, letting the fire-whisky burn.

"I wasn't," she shrugged.

"No, but you could have been. I can admire curiosity Snow, it helps drive us to understand the world and explore all its wonders, but I detest stupidity. What you did was stupid. Especially considering you didn't know enough to be prepared."

"I had to."

He felt his eyebrow raise, the question not even voiced, but she could read it clearly enough.

"I felt like I had to," she corrected, "it was kind of pushing me forward."

"What exactly was pushing you forward?"

"The magic or the dead. Maybe both, I guess. The Plague Bearer said I needed to walk the path, so I did."

 _Merlin help me!_

He took another sip of his drink.

It was one thing to share the memories of the dead on Samhain, an entirely different matter to converse with them. The dead rarely talked to any of the living.

"So a dead man tells you to walk on the path, and so you decided to walk the path. A path I might add that took you right through a door into the Beyond. Where you were literally unmade and stitched back together, with the high possibility of not being your full self again on the other side."

She looked at him inquisitively, her head tilted ever so slightly to the left.

"Have you never walked through the door?"

The question caught him by surprise. He hadn't been expecting that. There was very little that could surprise him these days.

"Once," he answered, surprised by his own honesty, but sometimes honesty worked in his favour just as much as the sweet promises of power and glory. It worked just as well as the lies.

"When I was younger and didn't know any better. Now I know better."

She frowned at him. Shaking her head, "I don't understand."

"It is an illusion Snow, the freedom you experience there is an illusion, and can never be achieved in reality. It is a fool's errand to even begin to chase it."

She nibbled on her lower lip. Another telltale sign, but this one was showing that she was deep in thought.

"What did you see?" She asked, her voice hushed.

This time he did lie.

"I saw nothing but darkness."

Something he didn't want to name, but could very well have been guilt, knotted deep inside of him. Tightening until it felt like he was choking. _It is none of her business what I saw,_ he silently argued.

Ignoring the feeling, he took the opportunity that had presented itself and asked her the question he had brought her here to ask.

"What did you see?"

Her eyes widened ever so slightly, the only sign she was affected by the question or the memories that surfaced because of it.

It was hard to tell. It seemed like a thousand thoughts crossed her face. But she still hesitated.

"It could help Snow," he said as gently as he could muster, "You could have seen something to warn of the danger at Hogwarts and not understand what you saw."

She was biting her lip again. Tom wasn't sure she was even aware that she was doing it.

"I saw blood rain," she answered, "Blood rain, and fire and a mass grave."

She was holding back.

He could tell that much, she was holding something back.

Though what exactly or even how much was beyond him. He toyed with the idea of pushing her more or even invading her thoughts but decided against it. There would be other opportunities for that.

Tom could admit he was somewhat disappointed. The visions themselves were hard to decipher at the best of times, but hers seemed even more complicated. It didn't hint or even seemed linked to what was going on at Hogwarts.

A mass grave, while death related didn't fit with the Sleeping Curse.

But it did beg the question of what exactly the vision meant?

 _Another day's problem,_ he silently thought.

"You saw nothing else?" he asked.

"What exactly am I supposed to have seen?" she countered with her own question.

He grimaced ever so slightly, "Nothing. Each person is different, and each vision is different. Some see things that are immediate to their current situation. Others see something years in their future, or at least one possibility of your future. Some see nothing at all."

"What has happened, with the bodies...at the entrance? Are they dead?"

He took a sip of his drink.

"No, they aren't dead. They are asleep, a cursed sleep. Finding the cure will take some time. As to what happened, well that is the question isn't it Snow, I had hoped your vision would have shed some light. But it appears that will not be the case."

He placed his glass down on his desk, "Come, Snow, I will escort you back to the Great Hall, where the rest of your housemates are."

She didn't argue, just stood and followed him out of the office. Walking in silence and allowing him to lose himself in his thoughts.

Tom wasn't sure that was exactly a good thing.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Elphias Doge ascended the short flight of stairs between the third and fourth floor, found behind a wall hanging of two swans. Hardly a secret passage in the grand scheme of things, but obscure enough to allow him to travel between floors unobserved by others.

No portraits hung on the walls close enough to either entrance meaning for a brief few moments he was as unwatched.

Slipping onto the fourth floor, he carefully cast the revealing charm giving him reassurance that he was indeed alone on that particular part of the corridor. Not that he had expected anything different, but a wizard could never be too careful.

He had volunteered his services to patrol these particular floors and report back if he found anything suspicious.

He knew he wouldn't find a thing.

But that didn't matter.

Cautiously glancing over his shoulder Elphias approached a large full-body length mirror. Tapping his wand once on the surface, he whispered the password he had memorised by heart, watched the surface ripple and shimmer as if it was water rather than glass.

Taking a deep breath he stepped through the mirror, ensuring he lifted his leg high enough, and felt a cold icy sensation wash through him. He shivered as his body passed through the silvery liquid.

His foot touched a hard surface, and he breathed a sigh of relief, as the mirror solidified behind him. He could see the corridor through the mirror but knew that nobody would be able to see him if they were to look through.

A secret shared between friends so long ago when both had been young and foolish and the concept of war a foreign thing. But that had been before, before all the darkness and death and blood.

Elphias shivered despite himself.

Thinking of the past was a useless exercise and brought nothing but pain.

Rubbing his knees absently, to get the blood flowing, stepping through the mirror always left him cold on the inside, he swished his wand and let light fill the tunnel before pushing forward.

There was no way to monitor the secret passages leading out of Hogwarts. It was perhaps the castles one weakness as if someone knew of them the other side they would find no obstacle barring their way into the school. Of course one would have to know the passwords as well.

But then maybe that was why Hogwarts changed and moved so much, an extra defence in its design should an enemy breach it's walls through those passages.

He never could tell exactly how long it took him to reach the other end of the passageway. He had walked it so many times in the past, and he knew it was never as long as he thought it was or as quick as it seemed.

But whatever time passed, Elphias soon found himself slipping through a small trap door in an outer house that was now used to store wood for Tomes & Scrolls in Hogsmeade. It had thankfully remained undiscovered over the years. Two quick spells ensured that no trace of his passage at all could be discovered and gathering his will around him he apparated himself near his destination.

He found it easier than trying to sneak out the old wooden door quietly, and now he was far beyond Hogwarts wards it was a far easier method of travelling.

Plus, if he was honest, it was easier on the knees.

Elphias Doge couldn't claim he was a young man by any standards, despite being considerably fit for his age.

Pulling his hood up over his head and tight to him, ensuring his face was masked in shadows he walked the final few feet to the entrance of the Hog's Head. At the late hour, he wasn't expecting many to be in the pub, but one could never be too careful.

His paranoia paid off.

There were still one or two drunken patrons, slumped over a drink at their table. They looked asleep, as no one battered an eye at his entrance, despite the late hour. But then Hog's Head was known for its late opening times.

It hadn't changed over the years. The floor was still dirty enough that it looked like open ground, rather than the cold stone he knew was there. Rough wooden tables scattered through the dimly lit room. Spaced out enough that one didn't feel as if someone else was listening to their conversation.

The barkeeper nodded once to him, in the way of greeting, which Elphias responded with one of his own as he made his way around the side of the bar, slipping a golden Galleon onto the bar.

The Keeper swiped it in one swift move and with a click of a lock the door that clearly was marked Private opened.

It was a well-known secret that the Hog's Head offered backroom gambling, for the right price. A secret that was _encouraged_ to be talked about in hushed voices, rather than not talked about at all.

Elphias waited for the door to shut behind him, and entered the second door. Already set up was a small table that could fit five people round. A man with crooked teeth was counting Galleons and Sickles as cards shuffled themselves.

The House dealer.

A man that always ensured the House won eighty percent of the time.

"Doge," the man wheezed in greeting.

"Jones," Elphias answered.

"Are we having a game tonight?" Jones asked.

"Not tonight. I don't have time," he replied, as he walked to the opposite side of the room.

The Hog's Head Inn was by its very nature a complicated building. Used once long ago as a place for smugglers to do business. On the outside, it stood three stories high and was wide enough to perhaps consist of two rooms on the ground floor. But if one looked closely enough at the seams one could see that all wasn't right.

Or then again, Elphias thought, no they wouldn't.

Hidden behind the Fidelius Charm for more than fifty years and more than a little tinkering from the one that cast said spell, the Hog's Head Inn was by far bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outside.

Elphias ran his finger along the length of one of the walls until he found what he was looking for, a door knob hidden in such a way that no one would ever be able to find it. Not unless they had been given the secret.

He twisted the knob and pushed the door open, allowing his eyes time to adjust to the dimly lit corridor before stepping further past the door and shutting it firmly behind him.

Ahead he could see a warm glow of light from an open door and the quiet murmurs of voices.

 _Good, I won't have to wait long,_ he silently mused as he walked up the length of the corridor. Pushing open the door at the far end.

A round table filled most of the floor space dead centre, though two armchairs that had seen better days positioned near the crackling fire. Boxes upon boxes, of what he could only guess were various supplies, stacked neatly along one of the walls.

He could see a rolled up sleeping bag, and large backpack neatly tucked away in a corner.

The Inn occasionally offered sanctuary to those who needed it.

Two men sat at the table. Deep in conversation and paying him no mind, though he was under no illusion that they weren't aware that he was there.

Elphias swallowed his surprise at the sight of one of them. He hadn't been expecting him here, but the familiar face that looked as though it had been carved from wood due to the many scars that covered his face.

Mad-Eye Moody.

The last he heard the man had been in Switzerland on some mission or another.

Elphias turned ever so slightly to study the other man and was met by bright blue eyes behind spectacles. It always caught him by surprise when he looked into those eyes, just how alike they were to his brother, but Aberforth Dumbledore was not his brother. Aberforth nodded once to him in acknowledgement before turning back to Moody.

Elphias took a seat at the table just as both men finished their conversation and turned to face him.

"Doge," Moody growled at him in the way of greeting.

"Moody, glad to see you're still alive."

"There is still fight in me yet, though it has been a close few weeks," the other man rumbled.

"Trouble?" He asked.

"Isn't there always," Aberforth answered, " _His_ forces are stirring in the East of the Empire. He is heavily recruiting and based on the information we have received, several 'camps' have been set up over night. Though we are unable to get the exact location."

"And by camps you mean?" Elphias asked, knowing full well who they were referring to.

"Training camps," Moody snapped as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. To him it probably was, but then he was a paranoid git.

Though Elphias supposed it had kept him alive for this long, even if not fully in one piece.

"Any possible idea as to why?"

"No one seems to know. _He_ is keeping very tight-lipped about it, and I doubt he has shared his plans with any of his advisors, though one thing is for certain the man is preparing for a fight," Aberforth answered, though if Elphias couldn't help but hear the weariness in his voice.

"Invasion," Moody grunted, "He is preparing to invade. It's going to be another war. We knew it would come one day. We knew that he wouldn't be happy until he conquered the world."

"Indeed old friend," Aberforth said in agreement, "and we aren't ready for it."

And wasn't that a sobering thought. Elphias knew that Aberforth didn't want to voice it out loud, but they were in a far weaker position now than they had been in the last War and they had lost then. They had lost most members of their order, and while the muggles joining them were increasing, their numbers among their fellow brethren were not. People were afraid, too afraid to voice out against anything, too afraid of action.

They needed something, an edge that would perhaps inspire people into action.

In part, he was working towards that in his own way.

"How is the girl?" Aberforth asked.

"Adjusting surprisingly well. She is dealing with the pressure we have placed on her and is exceeding faster than I had hoped. She is getting top grades in most of her classes."

"Most?" Moody queried, with a look that held too much doubt for his comfort. He had been particularly vocal in his objection at the idea but had gone along with it grudgingly.

"Here grades are high in the Headmaster's class, but the highest rank there it seems falls to another."

"Should we be concerned that it will interfere?" Aberforth quizzed.

Elphias paused to consider the question before answering. "Yes. He is showing more interest in the Black Heir."

Aberforth smiled ever so slightly, "Ah yes, the mysterious Black. Witch-born and muggle raised. What are your opinions of the girl?"

"She is more intelligent than she likes to show. She is in Slytherin, from what I have observed, she seems to share the trait of keeping her cards close to her chest. She has taken an interest in Artificing and shows promise," Elphias replied, before adding, "The girl has power. More power than average. I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't offer her the Apprenticeship. He is showing more interest than usual."

"That could be problematic. After all the whole intention behind your ward was to get her closer to him, to learn more about his movements," Aberforth sighed, "Keep an eye on the Black Heir. I want to know if she is approachable. It would benefit us greatly if she were inclined to be sympathetic. Considering the fortune that is attached her and the power you state she has."

"Could be dangerous," Moody growled in warning, "especially if she is spending enough time around the snake-faced traitor. Her loyalty could be to him."

"Perhaps, but that does not take way the fact she will need to be watched. You said she has taken Artificing, which will allow you the opportunity to talk to her more frequently without it raising any eyebrows. And keep working on your ward."

Elphias nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"And the other matter?" Aberforth asked.

Elphias sighed, it didn't need to be voiced, he knew what the other man meant.

"He has it, and it works. At this time I can't determine whether it is a one-off occurrence or whether it can be used multiple times, but the device works as suspected."

Aberforth nodded his head one, looking deep in thought.

"How do you wish me to proceed?"

"As you are. If you move now, you risk your position, and you are too valuable. We have confirmation that he stole it and that he is prepared to use it. Let it play out for now, and when the time is right, we will interfere."

"And the children?"

"It is a Sleeping Curse. Break the device, and the curse will be broken. So long as the device remains intact, then it will anchor the curse."

"So unless the instrument is broken they won't wake up?"

"No."

Elphias knew that little detail should bother him, and in part it did, though it was just a Sleeping Curse and wouldn't kill them. Though that was part of the Curse itself. It didn't just put them to sleep, it preserved them, and as long as the Anchor remained intact, then they could sleep for hundreds of years. And there lay the biggest curse of all. Not just the first initial casting but a curse that was two folded. One day the inflicted could wake to a world, not their own where everyone they knew and loved was long dead, and their names a forgotten memory.

He would watch, and he would wait and when the time was right. He would interfere.

Elphias pushed himself to his feet bid both men goodbye before taking his leave. He had been as long as he should be from the school; he now needed to ensure that no one saw his return.

* * *

XXX

* * *

There was a sense of fear within the castle walls the following days after Samhain night.

Professors were seen more in the corridors during the evening, and the students gravitated to each other almost instinctively. Preferring to lose themselves in the protection that crowds offered.

But where there was a mystery there was also rumours, and gossip and Hogwarts were no different to the Warren in that aspect. It spread through them like wildfire, offering little comfort and even less truth.

Holly had overheard a Ravenclaw whispering to his friends that the 'students' were, in fact, dead and that the Professors were trying to cover it up because they were killed by the magick's of the dead on Samhain night. She had heard the extra emphasis with a K that seemed to hold so meaning to the boy but was lost on her.

Of course, the moment he had caught sight of her, a Slytherin who had participated in Samhain festivities, he had shut his mouth quicker than a Silencing Charm.

A second rumour that she had heard had made her shake her head in amusement, as someone stated that the whole thing was one giant prank by the Professors to make sure that the rest of the students behaved for the remainder of the school year.

It was slowly grating on her nerves.

Despite knowing the truth of what had actually happened to the students. Even if she didn't know the how, why or who part, Holly couldn't help but feel uneasy.

Like a weight had settled on her shoulders and refused to budge. No matter how hard she tried to shift it.

Something was bothering her, something that didn't make sense.

It was bugging the hell out of her because she didn't know what it was.

But despite her own unease Hogwarts atmosphere quickly changed after the first few initial days.

The Quidditch season had begun, and it seemed that the excitement that it brought with it was enough to lift the fear from Hogwarts population and push aside the knowledge of three sleeping students in the Hospital Wing.

Especially considering it was all anyone could talk about.

"Gryffindor and Slytherin match this weekend," Cornfoot began, "who do you think will win. My money is on Gryffindor."

Holly threw him a look from behind her book. She didn't like the dirty-blonde haired boy. He was obnoxiously arrogant. A member of the Hufflepuff House, though from what little interactions she had had with the boy she was finding it difficult to find exactly what traits he had that would have placed him there, the boy often found ways to put down the other Artificing students in their small group. Whenever and however he could. _He_ clearly belonged to a family that was dutifully devoted to the Empire and Emperor and ensured it was voiced, loudly she might add, whenever he could.

"I thought the Slytherins hadn't been defeated in Quidditch since one of the older Weasley boys left, what's his name?" Bones countered.

Compared to her housemates that had joined Artificing Susan Bones was the one Holly liked best. While strong-willed and prepared to fight her corner in a debate, as she often got into them with Doge, she was kind and caring.

Over the weeks they had been attending Artificing classes she had come to know the members fairly well, well enough to hold a conversation with, even if she wouldn't share her secrets with them.

"We haven't," Holly answered, "And it was Charlie Weasley. His brothers say he was a pretty damn good Seeker and even some of the older Slytherins can admit that. Even if it is somewhat grudgingly."

"I surprised about that," Goldstein said with a smile. "I mean that they are willing to admit someone outside their house is good."

Holly returned the boys smile with one of her own, "We recognise talent in others, and we respect that talent. We just believe our people are better."

She liked Goldstein and his friend Boot. Both boys were openly honest with their interest in all things magical, and their inquisitive minds matched their intelligence to understand things. Goldstein was the slightly stronger character out of the two, more vocal in his opinions and his arguments than Boot.

 _Not that Boot is a pushover,_ she silently mused. As Cornfoot had quickly found out.

"Yes well, it is easy to be confident when everyone knows that the Headmaster and the Heir came from that House. It is evident the Slytherin House has his favour over the others. Something they use to their advantage," Cornfoot added, a sneer twisting his lips.

Some people could pull a sneer off well. Professor Snape a prime example, he made sneers look both threatening and superior. Cornfoot's just made him look like an idiot.

Though Holly would admit, that was just her opinion.

His comment, however, did offer opportunities that she would be stupid to miss.

"Care to make a wager on that Cornfoot?" she asked with her most charming smile she could muster.

The smile said more than the question. It was daring him to put his money where his mouth was. Something that Holly knew the boy was too arrogant to ignore. He was a perfect mark.

"Do you even have money considering where you came from Black?" he sniped back.

Holly laughed.

"Too afraid to find out Cornfoot?"

His face went a deep red, "Fine a Galleon says Gryffindor wins!"

"A Galleon. Why not make it interesting and say three?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

She had five Galleons left from the monies Riddle had given her if she lost it would hurt her, but she would manage. If she won, the extra three Galleons would help her.

"Fine!"

"Hey, I want in," Smith chirped, as did Bones and Boot.

A large thump of a book snapping shut caught their attention. Doge was looking at them all with open outrage.

"Honestly! We are here to learn about Amalgamation, and all you can talk about is Quidditch and gambling. Which is illegal I might add!"

"It's just a bit of harmless fun Hermione," Dunbar said softly. The brown haired girl was the only other Gryffindor in the group. "It isn't harming anyone."

"It might harm my income if Gryffindor loses," Boot joked, with a soft chuckle.

"Harmless fun aside, we are here to learn about Amalgamation, not gambling over Quidditch. There are more important things happening than Quidditch!" Doge argued.

"Lighten up Doge!"

Doge opened her mouth to respond quickly shutting it again as Professor Doge walked through his classroom door.

"I apologise for the delay, now shall we begin where we left off last week," he smiled at them, clapping his hands together. "Amalgamation is the power to form a mixture between existing creations or in other terms the ability to fuse anything together to create a new form..."

* * *

Holly looked at her wooden sculpture half amused and half disappointed with the final outcome. Following Professor Doge's instructions, they had spent half of the session carefully sculpting the shape of a winged horse, with the eventual idea of fusing the wood with a spell that would allow it to move and fly on its own accord. Flapping wings and all.

Not a single one of them had succeeded.

Whether through careless craftsmanship and not getting the right proportions with the size of the wings and weight of the figure itself or not quite mastering the technique or even understanding in what Doge had actually meant by fusing the spell within the wood during the crafting stage that would enable the horse to fly on its own.

They could all cast the Levitation Charm to make the object as a whole fly, but that wasn't what Doge had wanted.

She had managed to get her horse to the right size, though it had taken her a fair amount to do so, and she had almost sliced the head clean off while trying the shape the finer details, but Holly had not been able to infuse the spell into the wood to bring it to life.

And she wasn't sure where she went wrong with it, or even how she could accomplish it.

Shaking her head she stuffed the horse into her bag as she made her way back to the Slytherin Common Room, it was a problem for another day.

She was just starting down a set of stairs when something glistened in the light, catching her eye.

Holly frowned and kneeled down at the top of the stairs. Inches above the first step a perfectly aligned, wire, stretched across the length of the stairway.

 _A trip wire?_

She knew it hadn't been there when she had used this particular flight of stairs early to attend Artificing.

Paranoia gripped hold of her, had someone placed it here _knowing_ she would come back this way. Had this been meant for her?

A small voice cautioned in the back of her mind not to jump to conclusions, and it could have been meant for anyone, but a niggle tugged at her stating clearly in bold letters that someone had meant this for her.

Was someone really out to get her?

"Black!"

Flint's voice called, catching her by surprise. Holly twisted her head to the sound of his footsteps, his voice was naturally harsh so she could never tell if he was angry or not.

By the way, his dark green eyes seemed to burn her with she stood, she was going to say angry.

Very angry.

"Flint?" She asked warily, unsure whether she need to turn and run.

All of a sudden he seemed every inch the size he was, with a bulk to him that was definitely considered intimidating.

"Oh, don't look so confounded Black, I don't bite. Well unless asked nicely," the boy answered with a grin, though Holly couldn't say the smile was reassuring. In fact, it looked more menacing that amused. She frowned at him.

"I'm not angry at you. In fact, you're just the person I have been looking for," he continued, ignoring her confusion, "but first what are you doing down there?"

"A trip wire," she answered.

"There isn't a trip here," he grumbled.

"I know. It wasn't here when I came up this way two hours ago, but it's here now."

Flint looked at her; a thoughtful expression crossing his face and a suspicious glint lit up his eyes.

"Well, shall we see what it does then?"

Before she had a chance to stop him, Flint lifted his foot and gently pushed the wire up. It happened too fast for Holly to actually understand what happened. One minute the stairs were there and the next minute they had disappeared before her very eyes, an explosion of red and white light exploded around her, and she was sliding, sliding down a giant ramp, far too fast for her comfort.

The problem was, Flint had been caught up in the explosion and was sliding down after her.

She landed with a thump on her backside at the bottom, unable to move out of the way in time to stop Flint falling on top of her.

The wind was knocked out off her, and she wheezed and spluttered for air.

"What -" she began before coughing, "Did you do that for?"

Footsteps could be heard running in away from him, though Holly wasn't able to see anyone. Flint, surprisingly fast, launched himself after the footsteps, a curse already leaving his lips and flying off in a direction.

Holly pushed herself to her feet, feeling a spasm of pain flare to life up her left leg the moment she put her weight on it. Tears welled in her eyes, and mentally she cursed, using several words she had heard in the Warren more times than she could count, but not quite brave enough to say them aloud herself.

Given the current circumstances, she thought they were perfectly acceptable to use, even if she was only using them mentally.

Hobbling after Flint, she turned a corner and almost smacked straight into him. He was standing there radiating anger, but completely alone in a deserted corridor.

"I take it you didn't get them?"

"Don't test me, Black, I'm really not in a good mood as it is today, and now I'm doubly not. Little git got away," he snarled at her.

"Why the hell did you trip it? I could have disabled it," she snapped back, feeling her own anger stirring. She was too tired to care about the consequences with arguing with Flint, that and she was too aware of the pain in her leg.

"Tripped it to see what it would do, that way you can work out where it came from."

"And, do you know where it came from?"

"It's a Zonkos product."

"A Zonkos product?" she asked

He threw her a disgusted look, "The joke shop. Trip someone up in a magical trap, usually harmless; though put it before a flight of stairs and that changes. But it means any idiot could have done it. They are already prepared and prepped, as they say, just need to put it in to place and activate with the spell they provide and bam, one trip wire fun packed adventure."

"A joke shop product," Holly said in disbelief. She had presumed it had been a complicated piece of magic, which would have ruled out first and second years almost instantly, but a joke shop product meant anyone could have bought it.

"You're hurt," Flint acknowledged with a nod of his head.

"It's just my ankle."

"Come on. I will help you to the Hospital Wing; I need to you in top form."

"Why?" she asked, confused by the sudden generosity in the other boy. Flint wasn't known to help people out of the kindness of his heart. Not that he was a bad person, just that he took the motto of Slytherin 'everything has a price, and nothing is free' quite literal.

"The whole reason I was looking for you," he growled, the anger was back in his voice.

"Why do I have the feeling I suddenly need an alibi?" Holly muttered, though not quite enough as Flint chuckled, but then he was close enough to hear, one arm under her shoulder and helping her hobble to the Hospital Wing.

"That's what I like about you Black; you have a sense of humour. No, I need you to play the game on Saturday. The stupid bleeding idiot that is Higgs has only gone and managed to break his wrist, and because it is a delicate area of the body, and has smaller bones, Pomfrey won't heal it all in one go," he snorted, folded his arms across his chest before continuing.

"Too much strain on the body and rushing it would cause more damage or some bollocks like that."

"Flint I'm a first year, I can't play," she pointed out; her heart beat had just skipped ever so slightly at the thought. She had practised with the team enough times to say she was confident in playing a position. But playing a game an actual game against other players? No, she wasn't ready for that.

"I've already got it cleared with Professor Snape, exceptional circumstances and all that." He snapped back quickly, leaving no room for arguing. "I'm not taking no for an answer Black. If you don't play we forfeit the game and we lose. And trust me when I say I will make your life a living hell if that happens."

It was a growling warning that left no room for doubt.

Holly was not getting out of this no matter how much she didn't want it to happen. She sighed in defeat and Flint took that to mean her cooperation.

"That's the spirit, Black. I expect to see you at practice tomorrow. We have one last chance to get you fighting ready for the game on Saturday. Of course, we need your ankle fixed first."

Holly blinked at him, words failing to form as Flint handed her over to Madam Pomfrey. She took one look at her, ordered her onto the bed and banished Flint from the room, all in less time than Holly thought possible.

Without another word at her, Flint walked out of the Hospital Wing practically whistling to himself leaving her more confused than ever.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered.

"What was that dear?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"Nothing," Holly said, as she leant back onto the bed and wondered how and when everything became so complicated.

* * *

Nerves snaked through her.

Standing next to Pucey and the other Quidditch players, Holly was drastically aware of how small she was in comparison, and she couldn't help but feel that she was out of her league in a big way.

Her sudden promotion to being an actual player on the Quidditch team hadn't thankfully leaked out to the rest of the school. Something Holly was more than grateful for, though she supposed it hadn't really had the time to spread.

But even so, as she stood, waiting to walk onto the pitch she couldn't calm the pace of her heartbeat or the knotting of her stomach.

She felt as if she was going to be sick any moment.

"Just breathe Black, just breathe, and you will be fine," Pucey whispered to her. Just as the doors of the changing room opened wide and the cheers of Hogwarts students could be heard.

She took a deep breath.

"Just focus on finding the Snitch and nothing else."

Holly was pretty sure she nodded in acknowledgement but couldn't say for certain that she actually did. She was aware that she was moving with the team, but Holly was sure who was controlling her feet. Everything seemed so distant, as if it was happening from far away and she was merely observing.

Cheers erupted.

The pitch seemed huge from down below. Holly scanned around the pitch hoping that her knees weren't knocking together as she did so. She didn't pay attention to what was discussed between the two Captains and the referee. She followed the lead of everyone, mounting her broom at the same time, all the while conversing herself in hopes it would calm her down.

 _Oh god, I can't do it. I can't do it._

 _Just breathe, just breathe. You just need to catch the Snitch. Avoid the Bludgers and everything else and just focus on the Snitch._

 _Nothing else matters._

 _Just the Snitch._

The whistle blew, and they were off.

The balls flew out of the box in the circle at the centre of the pitch.

Holly pushed off from the ground the moment she saw the others rise so that she was one of a crowd rather than zooming ahead and bringing, even more, attention to herself.

She was in the air again, and she couldn't help but smile.

Her nerves slipping away as the wind whipped past her as she looped around the pitch.

Feeling the pure joy at the freedom that flying offered her, and for a split second her mind flashed back where she danced amongst the stars with a pack of wolves.

Flying came close enough to that kind of freedom.

Circling higher than her teammates, so she was out of the way while she searched for the snitch gave her a glimpse of what was happening in the game, though if Holly was honest, she wasn't actually aware of who had the Quaffle and who didn't. Nor could she make out who was who.

She rolled as she heard the warning whistle of air, and the Bludger passed her by mere inches. It had been a close call, and as the Bludger turned back, Holly was ready for it, diving in a twisting spiral across the pitch, carefully avoiding her own players, but ensuring her paths crossed the Gryffindor players. The Bludger too heavy to turn as fast as she did veered off into the direction of the Gryffindor Chasers.

Holly spun out of her dive and watched the Gryffindor Chasers narrowly miss the Bludger.

They hadn't been hurt, but they had been distracted enough to allow Pucey the chance to slip through their ranks and reach the goals.

Cheers erupted loudly as he scored from the Slytherins in the stadium. Drowning out any other noise for a few moments as someone attempted to loudly announce who scored.

Holly smiled as she turned and rose higher and out of the way again. Her eyes scanning for any sign of the Golden Snitch.

She was beginning to enjoy this.

Holly shivered.

An icy sensation rippled over, that felt wrong and twisted, though she doubted she was describing it right.

Her skin prickled and a wave of nausea assaulted her.

She shook her head, attempting to shake herself from whatever she felt when a loud piercing scream ripped through the air, followed by another and another.

Holly blinked in surprise as three figures descended down from above, large leathery wings flapping frantically, as they dived straight for the pitch and the crowds.

And then other screams could be heard.

Those ones were entirely human and full of fear.

She could almost taste the panic.

Holly dived, spinning fast as one of the figures split off heading straight for her. Higher than the other players, she had foolishly isolated herself and made herself into an easy target. Something she was about to change, provided she could keep the speed up.

The thing, whatever the hell it was, was faster than a Bludger, and was conscious enough to follow her twists and turns with twists and turns of its own. Glancing back gave her full view of something that was humanoid shaped, though was distinctively not human. Not unless humans were suddenly made entirely of what looked to be feathers and bones. It's face, appeared to be female but was twisted and distorted and monstrous. A large beak-like mouth, full of teeth opened and screeched.

Piercing enough to hurt.

It made Holly shake, her vision blurring and she was finding it difficult to keep a grip on her broom. She could feel something dripping from her nose down to her lips.

Blood.

She tasted blood.

She needed a plan; she needed to get away and fast.

She bobbed and dived and spun and twisted.

The thing didn't even seem breathless from keeping up.

 _Think, think, think. Damn it, Holly, move your ass!_

Seeing an opening in one of the stands that had no longer had students remaining, she dived straight down at it, willing the broom to move that little faster.

The broom happily obliged.

She could see it getting closer and closer.

Using all her strength, she pulled up sharply at the last possible second, leaving mere inches away from herself and the stands sides, but close enough to feel the wood graze across her legs.

The thing crashed into it with a force that should have splattered it into nothing.

She was aware of students running and Professors casting spells at the creatures, but it seemed like it was happening far away.

Her ears hurt, and her nose was still bleeding, and the thing that crashed it the stand was still in action and moving. It's wings too large to fold away helping it walk across the broken wooden stand, its feet never touching wood.

"Well that was fucking great," she cursed.

Her heartbeat tripled in pace.

She turned her broom, just as the thing launched itself back into the air.

If she abandoned her broom for the ground to run away, she was dead.

She was faster on the broom.

She could lead it to the Professors, but they were having enough trouble protecting the students and battling the other two things. Even Riddle who looked like a ferocious black knight, casting spell after spell, after spell.

Whatever these things were, magic had little effect on them. In fact, it seemed to be fuelling them.

A taloned hand swiped her.

Pain split through her shoulder.

 _Gods that hurt._

She could feel her anger rising, pushing past the pain and crawling to the top of her. It wanted to lash and strike out the _thing_ that was hurting her.

It burned inside of her.

A spell flew past her, hitting the thing in the chest. It pushed it back a few feet, but other than a scorched mark left in its wake it seemed to have a little effect. Holly turned to see Riddle standing directly below her. He had somehow managed to clear his way through the crowds, whether aware of her plight and confident in leaving the other Professors to deal with the others.

Holly felt relieved. Not that she would ever admit it out loud.

"MOVE!" Riddle roared at her, and then she was diving to the ground again, just as the thing dived at her with another loud screech.

This time Holly let go of her broom to press them over her ears, hoping to shut out as much of the noise as possible, well aware she was a few feet from the ground still. Her broom lost control almost instantly, jerking and shuddering under her until it hit the ground and flipped her over.

She landed at Riddle's feet, flat on the ground and staring up at them. The wind completely knocked out of her.

She gasped for air and winced as it filled up her lungs with a sharp bite.

Mentally she groaned.

Magic lashed around her, powerful, frighteningly powerful. Like a tornado it ripped around her, cutting everything in its path.

Riddle was angry.

Angrier than she had ever seen him.

His eyes seemed to bleed red.

He swished his wand, green light shot out of it. Hitting the thing in the chest.

Whatever the effect was meant to be, it did nothing.

Though Riddle's lips twitched ever so slightly, despite the anger blazing in his eyes.

"Of course," he muttered, "You can't kill something that has never been alive. A golem. A fucking golem!"

Holly didn't have a clue what a golem was, but the _thing_ was diving straight at them.

She felt her magic rise, almost instinctively, out of her control. Exploding out of her and expanding.

The air shimmered, and the thing crashed into a fully formed shield, bouncing off it and dropping to the ground.

She had formed a shield around them both.

Protecting both Riddle and herself.

 _Oh, he's never going to let me forget this one,_ she mused, tiredly. She felt exhausted.

Not that she had time to focus on her inner thoughts. As soon as the golem, thing, touched the ground, it disintegrated before them. Sizzling and hissing loudly, as it convulsed on the floor and screeched horrendously.

Until there was nothing left.

"An air golem."

Holly looked up at Riddle, who was looking down at her. Red eyes met hers, and she felt almost lost in the black hole of magic.

"An air golem's opposite is earth. It cannot touch the ground."

She nodded, though she wasn't sure she understood. But she nodded none the less.

His lips twitched ever so slightly, "It appears you have caught the Snitch, Snow."

Holly blinked in surprise, looking down at her hand that was gripped firmly around the Golden Snitch. She had no idea how that happened. She hadn't even recalled feeling it in her hands to grip.

Before she could say anything Riddle was already moving to deal with the remaining golem things.

Holly didn't move. She wasn't sure she had the energy to move even if she wanted to.

She just lay there, on the ground, aware of distant noises and piercing screeches as the golems died, until she gave into her exhaustion and she wasn't aware of anything.

* * *

Holly woke to the sound of raised voices.

Her vision was blurry; she was all too aware that her glasses were missing. Patting around as quietly as she could she found them on the bedside table.

She recognised the familiar surroundings of the Hospital Wing.

Lying as still as she could, she listened to the voices, recognising Riddle's and McGonagall's, though she had no idea who the third person was.

"You need to see reason, people are concerned. I am already getting daily letters from parents asking me to investigate what is happening, Headmaster, and that it before word has reached them about the fiasco with the Quidditch Game."

"I am well aware, Madam Bones, but I am in control of the situation," Riddle replied.

"I don't think you are. First the attack on Samhain night, and now this. You have three students stuck in a Sleeping Curse with no way of getting them out of it as we have no idea how it happened. And you now have over thirty students currently in the Hospital Wing due to Golems attacking them, not to mention the five that have been sent to St Mungo's. That is far from being in control!" Madam Bones whispered firmly.

 _That's Bones' Auntie. She said she worked for the Ministry...Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

"Are you questioning my authority?" Riddle asked. His voice had dropped a couple of degrees and Holly shivered, despite the fact that it wasn't directed at her.

"No, I'm questioning your inaction. Something needs to be done, and you don't seem to be any closer to finding out who is responsible."

"And pray tell, what is it you wish me to do? I am investigating the attack on Samhain night, and I am searching every inch of the castle grounds to find the cause of the Sleeping Curse. I have informed you of the attack today, and I have invited you and your Aurors to the grounds to investigate. I have strengthened the Wards that surround Hogwarts, and I have cancelled all Hogsmeade trips before the Christmas Holidays."

"The staff and the prefects are patrolling the grounds every night," McGonagall added, "we take the safety of our charges very seriously."

"That is why we have ensured that all students return home for the Christmas period rather than allowing some to stay at the school. It gives us the time to scour the whole castle." Riddle continued.

"I want to interview all the staff," Bones countered.

"Granted."

Holly hadn't expected Riddle to agree that quickly.

"If that will be all Madam Bones, I have other matters that need my attention tonight."

Without giving the woman a chance to reply, Holly heard the door open and close giving a clear indication that Riddle had left.

"That man is infuriating." Bones snapped, a little louder than perhaps she should have.

"Careful Amelia," McGonagall warned.

"Yes, forgive me," Bones agreed with a sigh, "Is there anything else I should be aware of?"

"I would tell you if I thought it was important. My first concern is always going to be the children of this school, but we really are at a loss as to who is behind the attack. The wards would have needed to be dropped to allow the Golems through, and they weren't."

"Which means someone in the castle has the capability to create and control three Golems? That is no easy feat."

"No, it isn't."

"Are you positive it isn't the Headmaster?"

"That is an accusation you need to be careful to voice. I may not like the man Amelia but I can say he isn't stupid to pull a move like that. Not to mention that one of the Golem's targeted Miss Black. A student that the Headmaster has taken more than usual interest in."

"She's here, isn't she. Can I see her?"

Holly took off her glasses quickly and shut her eyes, praying that she could convince them that she was asleep. She heard footsteps and was aware of a weight of them standing there. She could feel their eyes studying her, and it took every bit of her willpower not to twitch, or open her eyes.

"She looks so young," Bones whispered, "Susan has mentioned her once or twice in her letters to me. States that she doesn't appear to be like the rest of her house, though does try to keep to herself."

"She has a select group of friends from what I can tell. But no, she isn't anything like her father. There is no boisterous attitude, and no love of pranks, which I am grateful for. She is quite, studies hard and does her best to keep her head down," McGonagall answered.

"I hear a but?"

"But there is something about her that doesn't quite add up. I can't put my finger on it. Her eyes, they are...a startling green, and they look far older than they should do for an eleven-year-old."

"Given her circumstances that should be expected," Bones muttered, "Do we need to be concerned how much interest he has?"

"I don't know," McGonagall sighed, "All I can say is my gut tells me to be afraid for her."

Holly listened to them whisper over her, stewing on their words. She had known Riddle had an interest in her, he told her enough times as it was. She had her part to play in a scheme that was beyond her understanding. Riddle was up to something, and she was stuck in the middle of it, but she hadn't been aware that other people were noticing his interest in her.

That was problematic. It meant more people paying attention to her.

She listened to them chatter aware that they were moving further away from her until she no longer could hear them.

Holly opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

Nobody seemed to have a clue what was going on at Hogwarts, but two attacks in less than a week was troublesome. That and it appeared that someone was deliberately targeting her as well. Did that mean they were all connected, the incidents against her, and then the larger attacks?

It didn't make sense. If someone was capable of creating Golems, and they were really as difficult as McGonagall said they were to make, then surely that person wouldn't use childish tricks to cause her harm. They would have the power to outright kill her.

But was it too much of a coincidence for them not to be connected or did it mean that two people were out to get her, and that was even more worrisome than just the thought of one.

* * *

Despite her best attempt to sweet talk Madam Pomfrey in letting her out of the Hospital Wing, the woman refused to budge, and Holly was stuck for another day bored out of her mind.

Her shoulder had been healed, and the only evidence that remained was three thin pink lines where her skin had been melded together. Madam Pomfrey hadn't been able to heal them so they wouldn't scar. The Golems had carried a poison in their talons that had in Madam Pomfrey's words, put up a damn good fight when attempting to remove it. The idea Holly supposed was to prevent a person healing quickly and eventually bleed out to death.

It was an uncomfortable thought.

Daphne, Blaise, Theo and Draco visited her, and she was glad to see that they were mostly unharmed. Though Draco had a few scrapes and bruises that he was complaining loudly about. Despite applying the potion to help with the bruising for the last two days.

"I have half a mind to complain to my father you know!"

"Draco, your father, is an ally of the Headmaster, he isn't going to make a move against him. Plus the Headmaster is doing everything he can, I'm sure that the person responsible will be found soon enough," Theo pointed out.

Holly smiled ever so slightly.

"How are you feeling Holly?" Daphne asked.

"Bored," she shrugged.

Daphne gave her a look that said she wasn't happy with the answer.

Holly sighed, "I'm just tired. My shoulder is okay, though it aches a little, besides that I am fine."

"You really are hopeless in admitting there is something wrong aren't you."

"It certainly gave you a run for your money though. I mean I didn't see much as I was pushed through the crowds, but one of those things wouldn't give up on you. It was like you were a life-size tasty treat and it had to have a bite."

"Golem, R -," she stopped herself, covering her error with a cough, "Professor Riddle called it a Golem, but I'm not entirely sure what they are. Just that you can't kill something that has never been alive, or at least I think that is what he said."

"A Golem is a magically animated being created entirely from inanimate matter. They can be used with anything, and each one will vary from the next," Blaise answered, though Holly could see he was puzzled over something, "The capabilities will depend based on the material they are made from. They were air Golems so they could fly."

"It generally takes someone incredibly powerful to construct one, let alone three. Your control has to be absolute, as they can sometimes gain an independent mind themselves and resist their orders, even kill their creator." Daphne added.

Blaise nodded in agreement, "It is a complicated piece of magic from what I gather to create one."

"Well someone created three and set them lose during the Quidditch game," Holly said.

"Yes, but who and why?" Daphne asked

"The Headmaster is not without enemies, perhaps this is one of them," Draco said.

"It doesn't look good for the school either does it, in less than a week there have been two separate attacks on the children," Blaise commented, "Though it does make sense."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You're an enemy of the Headmaster and Heir of the Empire. A Wizard that has the reputation of being incredibly powerful you would be a fool to go against him." Blaise continued, "But target the school, attack the children and you bring his ability to run the school into question."

"I don't know Blaise, who would be foolish enough to do something like that?" Theo asked.

"No idea, it's just what I perceive to be a logical conclusion. The attacks aren't random coincidences. The attack that happened on Samhain night took place when the Headmaster wasn't at the school. A perfect opportunity to strike. The Quidditch Game had most of the school gathered in a single location, an ideal place to attack and ensure maximum damage."

Holly looked at Blaise in surprise. Despite it being a reach Blaise's theory certainly made sense in a twisted kind of way. Though it didn't give a clue as to who was responsible, it gave reason to the madness that was behind the attacks.

It made them appear less random and more calculated.

"Do you think the attacks on me are related then?" Holly asked. It would certainly make her feel better about them if they were connected to a bigger picture, rather than personal against her.

"What attacks?" Draco asked.

Holly was grateful that the others answered for her.

"Have you told a Professor?" Draco asked, his voice laced with concern.

"No, I can't prove anything. I have no hard evidence, just circumstantial evidence. Plus I don't even know where to begin if I was to accuse anyone."

"Well the obvious one would be Parkinson," Theo said.

"True, but that's just it. She is too obvious. Parkinson has made it clear she doesn't like me. She accused me quite loudly of stealing her bracelet and had the evidence to back it regardless of how the thing actually got into my bag. She would be the perfect scapegoat," Holly paused, racking her brain, "Though now I think about it, other than the incident in the library which could be pure coincidence, everything _has_ happened after Parkinson's bracelet incident."

Draco's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise, and the others just gave her a puzzled look.

"I don't think they are connected to what is going on in the school. Despite that being the safer option for you. They feel more personal, almost as if someone really wants to hurt you," Blaise said, "And if everything has happened after Parkinson then suspicion will automatically fall to her when she could have nothing to do with it."

"So if we rule out Parkinson that still leaves an awful lot of suspects. From any of the Houses, including our own," Daphne added.

"I don't think we should rule out Parkinson completely though," Draco argued, "As you have said she has made it very clear she doesn't like you."

"True, but we can't presume it is her and ignore everyone else either," Blaise countered.

Holly watched them throw ideas about between them and despite the seriousness of the conversation she couldn't help but feel slightly amused by them. She hadn't realised how good it felt to think out loud with someone else being able to input their own thoughts. The others picked up on things she missed because of their own unique education before Hogwarts. And while they still hard a long way to go before they would dance the dances their parents did on the political board that was the Game, they were far more inclined to see things from all angles.

It wasn't too long after Draco firmly stated he was convinced it was Parkinson that Madam Pomfrey swooped down on them and ushered them out with a harsh warning tone.

Daphne lingered behind until it was only the two of them were left, "It has been announced that no student is able to stay behind at Christmas at breakfast this morning. I was going to invite you anyway, but now you have no excuse, and I have checked with mother and father, and they would both be delighted if you would."

"If I would do what?"

Daphne rolled her eyes at her, "Honestly I do wonder about you sometimes. Would you honour the Greengrass family with your company over the Christmas Holiday?"

"That sounds formal, do I have to send a formal acceptance?"

Daphne threw a pillow out of her, "Would you like to spend Christmas with us. Please say you will, it will be so much fun, I promise."

Holly laughed, "Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you."

"Oh, good. I will write to mother and father today, it will be so exciting Holly. There is the Yule festival to celebrate and a gathering, and then there is Christmas day!"

"I told you already, this is not a Common Room, this is a Hospital Wing, out!" Madam Pomfrey had returned.

Daphne threw Holly a wink as she left, her head held high and giving the impression she was leaving by her choice rather than being forced to.

 _I will have to ask her to teach me that,_ Holly mused silently as Madam Pomfrey examined her shoulder again.


	18. Chapter 18

**A.N:** Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed and added my story to their favourites and alerts. I apologise for the wait between chapters, but I struggled with this one.

I hope you continue to enjoy the story and thank you for your patience.

Any mistakes are mine and mine alone, and I apologise.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Chapter 17: - **Holidays Are Coming**

 _"Dirumpo!"_ Holly watched the practice dummy fracture into pieces as her spell hit it square in the chest.

 _The Breaking Curse._

It had taken her three weeks to master the damn thing. It was one of the hardest spells Riddle had deemed to teach her so far and required a precision she had yet to master for every day. But Holly had refused to quit.

Her first attempt had been a disaster and had left Riddle with an office full of broken furniture while the practice dummy had remained in one piece.

Almost mockingly.

She turned to face Riddle with a smile on her lips. It wasn't quite a grin, she had more control than that, but it wasn't entirely a neutral expression either.

Dark eyes glanced up at her from various pieces of parchment that he was reading, looked at her and the dummy and then back to her again.

"How you would use that spell on a person?" he asked.

Holly wasn't surprised by the question. Riddle wasn't the kind of guy to praise easily. In class he encouraged or taunted, depending on the individual in question. But he kept his praise for the times when someone did something worthy of praise. Those rare instances were like gold and ensured that everyone's competitive nature intensified. Here between the two of them, there was no need to be competitive, but Riddle still kept the praise to a bare minimum.

Holly was all right with that; she didn't need praising every five seconds. Her results were speaking for themselves in her eyes and besides the lessons were useful to her. While she certainly appreciated them and accepted that they had been the price of her bargaining with him, so she could study Artificing, she still wasn't sure what his angle really was, or why he seemed so intent on teaching her.

"I wouldn't," she replied with a frown, "If I were to use it, it would kill that person?"

"That is one purpose of the spell, yes," he answered slowly, "though there are many. It isn't a spell I expect you to use while duelling your fellow classmate's Snow, not as a first year. But it is a useful spell to have in your toolbox."

She nodded showing her understanding before contemplating his first question. "Does it have to be used specifically on a person in regards to your first question?"

His lips twitched ever so slightly in amusement. "Shall I word it differently. How would you use the spell to defend your life, either on a person or not?"

"I could use it to break apart the ground that a person is standing on. It works on all matter. I could use it to break objects in my environment, making it more difficult for the individual to reach me if they were far away. And I could use it to kill the person," she listed.

Riddle nodded in approval, "All right answers, but you have left off quite a number of them. Cast the curse at a person, and it will break every bone in that person's body. The pain either kills them, it does more internal damage and there isn't a healer on hand to help, or they are just plain killed."

Riddle paused, ensuring he had her full attention before continuing. "Now direct it in a controlled way, you can use that spell to only break a particular part, or area say a hand or an arm."

"How?" Holly frowned, puzzled. She wasn't sure how such a thing could be modified. If the spell were designed to break bones, then surely it would break all of them and not just one or two.

Riddle flicked his wand, wordlessly, in the direction of the practice dummy and the thing repaired itself in a blink of an eye. She watched him rise from his chair and walk around the desk until he was by her side.

"Allow me to demonstrate," he smirked.

Two quick flicks and another silent casting, both the arms on the practice dummy broke into pieces.

"Magic isn't just about waving a wand. You have learnt that now, it requires willpower, but even that isn't the end of simply mastering spells. There is a finesse in spell casting that requires willpower, visualisation, a correct incantation and power," Riddle explained, "But control is always needed. Some spells require a delicate flick and a trickle of power to allow precision that would not otherwise be obtained, other's require a flood."

Another flick of his wand and both arms repaired themselves.

"I want you to focus on breaking the left arm. Only the left arm. If another part of the dummy or the dummy breaks completely you have failed. Bear in mind though, the practice dummy is made of wood. Once broken it does fall apart. A human body wouldn't work like that when hit with this spell."

Holly stared at him, her eyes widening. It didn't seem possible.

As if reading her thoughts he smiled, "be thankful I am giving you a whole arm, my teacher gave me an index finger to learn with first and nothing else."

Holly watched as Riddle returned to his seat, leaving her to get on with the task he had set. It was strange moments like this that confused her even more about the man. When he shared little hints about the past that made him seem all the more human compared to the haughty Headmaster that was so far above everyone else. So confident in his power and position that nothing could cross him.

 _And yet someone is trying to,_ she mused silently. November had passed with little disturbance since the Quidditch game, but nobody had forgotten the attack itself.

Shaking her head to free herself from her thoughts, Holly turned to face the practice dummy and took a deep breath.

She could do this; she could break the left arm and leave the rest of the dummy intact.

 _"Dirumpo!"_ Holly flicked her wand like Riddle had shown her while casting the spell.

The dummy broke to pieces before her eyes. Mentally she cursed it.

"Again!" Riddle said, not bothering to look up from what he was reading.

She cast the repairing charm and waited for the dummy to piece back together again. She noted that Riddle's had been quicker and couldn't help but wonder why? Not that it mattered; it was something she could puzzle over again at another time, when she had nothing else to think about.

 _"Dirumpo!"_

* * *

Holly lost track how many times she had cast the spell, and she still had not managed to just break the left arm. The only thing that seemed to improve at all was her skill at repairing broken things.

"This is impossible!" she said, blinking in surprise when Riddle answered her. She hadn't meant to say it aloud.

"Giving up so soon?" Riddle smirked.

She hated when he did that, taunted her until she lost her temper and ended up doing exactly what he wanted in the first place just to prove him wrong. It hadn't taken her long to work out his game there.

Holly couldn't fault him either, it usually worked. And that just irritated her even more.

"No!" She snapped.

His smile widened a fraction.

She was amusing him again, Holly could tell.

He stood once again and moved to her side.

"Raise your wand arm."

It wasn't a request.

Holly did so and stared in surprise when he took her hand in his own. He moved her ever so slightly to the side and pointed at the dummy.

"You're pushing too much power into the spell. You're hitting the arm fine, so your aim isn't the issue, but you are over powering the spell. This is where the control comes into play."

Holly frowned, "I don't understand."

"Control isn't just about having controlled wand movements instead of waving it around in the air with the _hope_ that something happens," Riddle began, "It is controlling how much magic you put into the spell as well. Think of it as noise, whisper too quietly and no one will hear you. Shout too loud, and you have more noise than you intended. Some spells require a lot of magic pushed into them, but others don't and overloading them is just making it extra flashy and wasting energy in doing so."

"Cast the spell, but when you're willing the magic to life imagine it as a stream rather than a tsunami."

Holly took a breath, visualised the intent behind the spell she was about to cast and focused on the dummy before her.

" _Dirumpo!"_ As she cast, the spell Riddle directed her hand in his with a soft flick rather than a sharp one. She visualised gathering the magic and shaping and pushing it forward like a gentle stream trickling through her fingers and the magical red light that indicated the spell being cast trickled out of her wand.

It fizzled out of existence before it even reached the dummy.

"The magic needs to be a little stronger, but not too strong. It's finding the right balance. Again!"

Again Holly followed the steps she had done previously, only this time rather than a trickle the magic flooded from her, like a strong current, without any of the extra splash.

 _"Dirumpo!"_ A red light shot out of her wand, faster than it had done previously. It hit the dummies left arm which broke apart in a small explosion of splintering wood.

The rest of the dummy remained intact.

"I've done it!" she grinned.

"So it would seem," he agreed, "but the question is can you do it a second or even third time?"

Holly could hear the unvoiced challenge in his tone, and despite knowing what he was trying to do, she couldn't help but rise to it.

Just to prove she could.

 _I'm doing it so I know I can do it,_ she argued, _it's got nothing to do with proving myself to him._

 _Liar,_ a small part of her argued.

Holly ignored it and focused on repairing the dummy for her to cast the spell again.

Following the same steps that she had when Riddle had been directing the flick of her wand, she gathered her magic, willing it to life as she visualised her intent and desired effect.

 _"Dirumpo!"_

The left arm broke apart as the spell hit it.

 _Two!_ Holly silently cheered, before repeating the process again for the third time with equal success and repeated the process again for a fourth and final time, _just to show him I'm not a complete idiot._

He smirked at her, as if he was reading her mind, but didn't comment on the additional casting. Just silently watched her, all interest in reading the parchments in front of him gone.

"Well done," he said, and Holly couldn't help but smile.

He waved his wand again, and the practice dummy vanished from sight, and all trace of damage disappeared before her very eyes.

"You are progressing well, both in and out of class. I can see you being at the top of League Board for your year group, provided you put your mind to it and work for it."

Holly didn't want to be on top of the League, though she didn't voice that particular opinion aloud, she knew Riddle wouldn't appreciate it. She was learning what she could purely for her own goals, and not a single one of them included being on top of the League.

Holly moved to sit opposite him, in front of his desk. Despite not looking like it the chairs were surprisingly comfortable. Not as comfortable as the sofa by the fire by pleasant none the less.

"Your Head of House informs me that you have sought permission to spend the Christmas period with the Greengrass family," Riddle said.

"I was invited," Holly confirmed.

"I am aware. I am inclined to grant you permission Snow, though I have a condition."

"I'm not sure I want to ask," Holly muttered.

Riddle continued, ignoring her, "You're presence will be required for a grand opening in the Warren. The food bank you so gracefully suggested to Rita Skeeter have now been finalised and is due to be open. In the spirit of Christmas, it was considered the holidays would be the appropriate time."

Holly felt her stomach drop, dread gripping her, _he can't be saying what I think he is saying. He just can't be._

"It was decided that the person who will open the food bank officially should be none other than the individual who suggested it."

Holly groaned, loudly, but again Riddle continued as if she hadn't made a sound at all.

"I will be there as I am funding the project and it is expected, but you will also be required. I have already written to the Greengrass family granting my permission for you to stay there over the Christmas period based on the understanding that you will be staying with me for three days."

"Three days! Why three days when it is only being opened on one day?"

Riddle smirked at her, "because you will need to be prepped. The last thing I need is for you to start spouting off some other ridiculous notion in public. No, you will spend three days before the event and will return to the Greengrass' _after_ the opening."

"I don't want to open the food bank," Holly argued, though she knew it was futile to do so.

"You have no choice. You will open the food bank, you will give a small speech, and you will _smile_ for the cameras and the people. You did this to yourself, and now you must face the consequences," Riddle answered, "not to mention it will allow the muggles to see you for the first time since your new lifestyle and help ease the tension. While there have been no further attacks since the day of the Purge, there have been scuffles within the Warren between muggles and the Watch."

"It is time to earn your keep Snow." He added as an afterthought.

"I won't do another interview."

Riddle smirked, "I shudder at the thought, no, besides the speech that will be written for you, you will not be giving an interview. Do I have your agreement?"

"You're not giving me a choice, so why are you asking for my agreement?" Holly scowled at him.

"Because it makes things so much easier when you aren't battling every order I tell you," Riddle sighed wearily, "I only have a certain amount of patience, and you are testing me, Snow."

Holly snorted; she was always testing his patience.

"Fine, you have my agreement," Holly hissed at him.

"Good, then that will be all for tonight. I bid you good night Snow."

Holly muttered a goodbye to him before standing and leaving the office. The Food Bank was a good idea, but she should have known it would have come back around and bite her in the ass for suggesting it without his say so.

Of course, he was going to make her suffer if he had to.

And what better way to make her suffer than to take her back to the place she had called home. Dressed up as a stranger and told to smile for the cameras as she fulfilled her purpose in pacifying the crowds and giving them something new to believe in.

Her.

The whole idea made her feel very uncomfortable, but if she wanted to spend Christmas with Daphne and her family, she couldn't see another way.

Not to mention as Riddle so kindly remaindered her, it was time to earn her keep.

Being a beacon for the muggles was exactly her purpose in Riddle's plan for her. She was nothing more than a pawn in his game.

Oddly enough she found that the idea hurt more now than it did when it was first suggested to her, and she couldn't for the life of her understand why.

She had let her guard down ever so slightly with him, but tonight's conversation had been the wakeup call she needed.

She couldn't trust Riddle, he was just using her.

As long as she remembered that she would be okay.

Mentally cursing herself for her own stupidity, Holly made her way down from his office to the Slytherin Common Room.

She couldn't forget for a moment that he was just using her.

She couldn't forget her own plans and goals, goals that didn't involve Riddle.

* * *

XXX

* * *

For what felt like the thousandth time since he took up the position, Severus questioned why he had ever decided to become a Professor. He had detested children when he had been a child himself, and the feeling had not lessened as the years slipped by.

In fact, as he read the abysmal work that barely passed for an essay, in front of him he couldn't help but feel that the detest had worsened.

Severus marked the offending thing the much-deserved _Troll_ before moving onto the next assignment. His mind wasn't on it, and he found himself grading to a somewhat bias sliding scale, not that he cared. Top marks went instantly to his Slytherins, matching average scores for the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and slightly below average for the Gryffindors.

They were only first-year essays, and only one or two had yet to show any promise or love for Potions.

If one was to ask him, why he became a Professor, he could say with certainty it was not for the desire to pass on his knowledge to imbeciles who showed no real appreciation for the power that Potions offered.

But then perhaps it was best forgetting his reasons and accept that it had been necessary. After all his position had ensured his survival at the end of the war and had strengthened the appearance of his loyalty to the cause. Self-preservation was a trait that the Slytherin House prided itself on and Severus was very much a Slytherin.

And yet self-preservation aside Severus couldn't help but wonder if it was all really worth it.

Pushing such dangerous thoughts deep inside where they couldn't see the light of day, Severus pulled his thoughts to the task at hand.

He was still no closer to narrowing down the list of possible suspects to one or two likely suspects, and the Dark Lord was becoming less forgiving of such delays.

The Dark Lord had never been known for his patience with the failures of others, and Severus wasn't foolish enough to think that becoming Headmaster had made him any different.

 _Not when his power is being questioned, his authority._

No, Severus knew that failure was not an option, not if he wanted to continue surviving and yet the pool of suspects was considerably larger than he was comfortable with.

His Lord had more than his fair share of enemies and cross-examining them all would be next to impossible.

 _Perhaps it would be best to start eliminating those that you know would not cause harm to the children regardless of their feelings of the Dark Lord._

The idea would instantly allow him to cross McGonagall off his list, along with Flitwick and Sprout. They would always have the safety of the children as their first priority in all things. Enough to allow them to bow their heads to a man Severus knew they hated. Pomfrey first priority was always the care of those under her charge.

Even with those four ruled out the list of possible suspects was still extensive.

Severus sipped his drink. His one guilty pleasure in a world full of potential vices. He indulged himself rarely, preferring to be in absolute control of himself at all times, but there were times when the _need_ overtook common sense.

It was either that or kill someone, something that he wasn't sure he would get away with despite having his Lord's favour at the current moment.

 _Not that you will have it for much longer if you don't give him some answers._

Severus sighed, pushing the essays to one side, giving up all pretence of being interested in marking them. The Christmas period was almost upon them, and soon the school would be empty and give him plenty of opportunities to observe the remaining staff more carefully.

He hated Christmas.

Hated because _she had loved it._

Giving into the need that was stronger than his thirst Severus rose from his desk and moved to a small cupboard tucked away in the corner of his private office. Turning the key, he unlocked it and pulled the doors open. Reaching inside he pulled out a small silver frame. Turning it over he observed the smiling woman, with the bright red hair and the emerald green eyes.

He had spelled it so no one but him would be able to see it, even if they dared intrude in his private space.

 _She_ had loved Christmas.

Had loved the cold wintery days, and snow falling. Had loved drinking hot chocolate by the fire and added cinnamon to it. He couldn't stand the stuff, but she had loved it.

He stood and stared and remembered until it was too painful to remember and shut the photo frame back inside the cupboard.

Green eyes haunting him.

Green eyes that were so...

Sharp, intense pain cut across his mind. Blinding and sickening, suppressing everything but pain until all he could focus on was the pain.

Years of practice allowed him to focus on his Occlumency shields working through the pain until his thoughts were his own and the pain became background noise.

He took a deep breath.

 _What the fuck?_

Anger boiled inside him. Something had been messing with his mind, he recognised the signs even if he did not know the cause or the reason.

He couldn't even remember what he had been thinking to trigger such an attack.

Severus straightened he would get to the bottom of this.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Holly stared out of the window at the blurred countryside as the Hogwarts Express sped toward London. Ignoring the excited buzz that filled the compartment from the others, Holly couldn't help but feel slightly sick from leaving Hogwarts behind. As if in the few short months she had been there she had come to see the place as _home._

Despite the fact that she was excited to spend the Christmas Holidays with Daphne and her family, Holly was already missing Hogwarts.

Something she found incredibly foolish especially since she was _planning_ to leave the place herself.

Mentally she sighed. Even telling herself, she was being foolish didn't stop the ache that had developed in her chest.

"Holly?"

Holly turned from the window, blinking in surprise as Daphne stared at her.

"Huh?"

"You weren't listening were you?" Daphne accused, throwing a glare at a chuckling Blaise.

"Sorry, the mind was wondering a little. What was the question?"

A frown crossed Daphne's face, and concern was evident to see though she kept her thoughts to herself. Instead, the other girl just shook her head before repeating her first question.

"Are you nervous about what your mid-term placement will be? I can't believe they don't tell us until school starts back up again."

"No point worrying about it. I either need to improve or maintain," Holly answered with a shrug.

Blaise snorted, causing Theo to look up from the chess board that was between the two of them.

"As if you need to worry, you will be top of our year."

Holly laughed, "I think that position will go to someone else. I have room for improvement if 'I pushed myself' is what is often commented on my assignments."

"Written assignments yes, but practically and that's where it counts you are one of the fastest to pick up spells."

Holly shrugged, she was fast at picking up spells, too quick in her opinion, even with Riddle's extra tutoring didn't explain how quick she was at picking them up. Almost as if the wand movements had been ingrained into her muscle memory. Doge was the only one that was nearly as fast and even she seemed to struggle with some of the spells that Riddle was teaching them. Not that the others were slouches by any means, but they all had their strengths, and they all had their weaknesses.

But in truth, her placement on the League Board was the least of her problems. While she had been making progress in improving her skill set she had hit a slight snag in producing a steady income. She had underestimated just how expensive some of the materials required for Artificing were, which left her little at the end of each month from Riddle. Not to mention she had had to stock up three times on parchment and ink via owl order.

Without money leaving the Empire was next to impossible, and currently, she had no viable way of getting some. It meant it was going to take her considerably longer than she had first thought. Though the more time she had gave her more time to plan.

 _And for more to go wrong,_ the voice taunted.

 _Shut up!_

"We will have to arrange to meet before the Yule ball," Daphne said.

Holly frowned, "Yule ball?"

"Every year a Yule Ball is held on the shortest day of the year. Much like Samhain, it is celebrated," Daphne answered.

"Though to some it is considered an excuse for a gathering of the Wizarding Community," Blaise smirked.

"Only to those who haven't been invited," Daphne replied.

"Who is invited?" Holly asked

"Those who count," Daphne said, "Anyone who is anyone will be there. This year it will be held at Malfoy Manor."

"An actual ball though, with dancing and everything?"

Daphne smiled at her, "Yes, with dancing and everything. Though there is a lot more to it than simply dancing and eating and drinking. To those who see it as more than a social event, there is the ritual. Just like Samhain, but without the dead and doors and with far more people." Daphne continued, "It celebrates the rebirth of the sun, marks the wheel turning. Yule celebrations are beautiful."

A sense of panic rose inside of her. It was one thing participating amongst fellow students it was an entirely different matter joining in with everyone else. Hogwarts offered protection for her mistakes; outside its walls, those mistakes could very well cost her dearly.

Grappling with the panic before it took control, Holly pushed it back down with stamping feet. She would have to be cautious. One wrong slip here would be fatal. Reaching for the information Riddle had stuffed her head with before even entering Hogwarts grounds she felt she would at the very least not make a complete fool of herself in such a large public gathering.

Daphne smiled at her, somewhat reassuringly, almost as if the other girl was reading her like a book, "Don't worry Holly, I will be with you, and we will avoid the vipers."

"Who are you referring to as vipers?" Blaise asked in mock outrage.

"Everyone who isn't us," Daphne said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

* * *

Daphne fussed with Holly's hair and robes as the train pulled into the station and the other students begun to depart. Giving a satisfied nod when she was finally happy. Their trunks had already been shrunken and were tucked away in their pockets.

"Kitten!"

Holly turned to see Fred and George enter the compartment door and move to her.

"If one hair is out of place on her head I will skin you alive!" Daphne warned, stopping both of them in their tracks.

The twins blinked in surprise, before shrugging in unison and throwing themselves at her in one giant hug.

Holly couldn't help but laugh at their antics.

"You know you saw me before we got on the train right?"

"We couldn't not say goodbye again, right Gred?" Fred said.

Having spent time in detention with them, she had come accustomed to the subtle difference between the two boys. Enough that she could tell them apart. Small as they were, they were there if one looked enough.

"Of course dear brother, of course. What knights would we be to the fair lady if we left her unattended for but a moment. Who knows what trouble she would find herself in," George answered, with a nod.

"I leave the trouble to you two," she said, indicating to the two of them with a nod.

"Your words wound us, my lady," Fred gasped, clutching at his heart as if indeed was in pain.

"We all know out of the three of us which gets into the most trouble," Holly smiled.

"That is debatable," Daphne muttered under her breath, but loud enough for them to hear.

The twins grinned, "I think she likes us."

"Don't be absurd, as if I would ever like a Gryffindor, and ruffians at that," Daphne said.

"Oh sweet lady, I may just swoon," George smirked, "Catch me Forge," and then proceeded to lean on his brother as he went weak at the knees.

Daphne rolled her eyes at the both of them.

"Though she does have it right, trouble we may be, you do have a knack kitten to getting in the wrong kind of trouble," Fred warned, "trouble that usually ends with you being injured."

"I promise not to go looking for trouble," Holly replied.

They shared a look between them, a look that Holly doubted anyone but them would be able to decipher, before looking back at her.

"We could always kidnap her?" Fred said, seriously. Holly knew he was joking.

"Mum will feed her until she's too fat to going looking for trouble or run away from us," George added.

"As pleasant as that sounds, I will be okay, promise. No kidnapping is needed."

Both of them turned serious as they turned to face Daphne, who was watching them with a mix of amusement and horror all rolled into one.

"We deliver our lady to your care, we expect her returned in the condition she is currently in, and not a hair out of place."

They said it together, and for a split second Holly could hear the unvoiced warning that was there. She knew Daphne could to, by the way, the other girl stood a little straighter and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Holly couldn't tell if the other girl was insulted or not.

Instead, she nodded once. Slowly.

The twins nodded, before turning to her all smiles and cheers.

"Try not to miss us too much kitten."

Holly smiled at them, and after artificial-tear-jerking farewell, they left the compartment.

"I can understand why they are referred to as Phobos and Deimos on the duelling platform," Blaise stated.

Holly turned to him, "What do you mean?"

"Greek mythology, Sons of Ares, twin gods of fear and dread," Daphne answered instead. "They are interesting, even as they are annoying. Come on with have dawdled enough as it is."

With Daphne's declaration, they bid farewell to Blaise, Theo and Draco as they exited the train and Daphne led her in the opposite direction. While the platform was still crowded, it was considerably easier to move through now that the bulk of students had left.

Looking around, Holly couldn't really believe that it had been almost four months since she had first been on the platform.

 _Where has the time gone,_ she silently mused to herself.

"There they are," Daphne nodded discretely toward three figures, standing off to one side.

Holly could see the smallest of the three, which could only be Daphne's younger sister, was bouncing on her feet in eager excitement, as her mother casually placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

Astoria looked nothing like her sister, in fact, they were complete opposites. Where Daphne had auburn coloured hair, Astoria had dark brown and even darker eyes. Daphne had her father's colouring, from what Holly could see of the man, while Astoria mirrored her mother.

The Greengrass' were a striking couple. Mr Greengrass towered over his wife by a foot with a lean build and dark hair and hard steel blue coloured eyes. His features were sharp and angled and dressed in charcoal coloured robes he looked like the kind of man not to be crossed with. Other than the hair and a slightly bluer tint to her eyes, Daphne took after her father more than her mother. Mrs Greengrass wasn't tiny, but she was smaller than her husband. Auburn coloured hair glistened in the sunlight and jewels were elegantly woven throughout giving a more reddish appearance. Dressed in pale green robes, Mrs Greengrass held herself with grace and elegance that Holly knew she would never achieve.

"Hello Father, Mother," Daphne greeted as Astoria hugged her.

Daphne's mother smiled at her daughter, lighting up her whole face and made the woman turn from striking to beautiful in seconds. The woman reached out a hand, which Daphne clasped and pressed gently, returning her mother's smile with one of her own.

Holly felt as if she was intruding on this private moment between mother and daughter, but dared not move as Daphne's father hawk eyes observed her. She had a feeling he saw far more than she wanted him to see.

Not one to allow her fear show for a second, and more than used to the heated weight of Riddle's eyes, she met his with her own, and for a split second, the world seemed to stop, before starting just as quickly again.

She wasn't sure what had passed between them in that second, but it felt as those Daphne's father had weighed and measured her and was now already forming an opinion about who she was.

Holly couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.

"Father, Mother, may I introduce Holly Black," Daphne said.

Holly bobbed ever so slightly, not quite a curtsy but low enough to be considered respectful. She had read more books about the customs of the old ways and the dances of the Game. Riddle had given her a book before she left Hogwarts as a refresher with a sharp reminder not to screw up.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Black," Mrs Greengrass greeted warmly.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mrs Greengrass," Holly answered, reaching for pockets she pulled out a small wooden box and held it out to Daphne's father. It was customary to offer one's host a gift, the choice of the gift depended on the message one wanted to send.

Holly had chosen a small egg shaped ornament in the material of Lapis Lazuli, a precious stone she had read was considered as a symbol of friendship and universal truth. She hoped that the Greengrass family would see it as her intentions were pure when it came to her friendship with their daughter and was in turn to them.

"I come as a guest, willing to become a friend and swear to abide by the laws of hospitality. Please accept this gift as a symbol of my sincerity."

She looked at Mr Greengrass whose only sign of surprise was the light blazing in his eyes. He stared at her, not moving a muscle of giving any indication that he would accept her gift before finally he nodded his head once and took the wooden box from her.

"The Greengrass family accept your gift and welcome you with open arms to break bread with us," Daphne's father answered.

Daphne was beaming at her and Holly couldn't help but smile in return.

"Now, have you travelled by Portkey before Miss Black?" Daphne's father asked.

"No Mr Greengrass, I haven't."

The man nodded once, before explaining briefly what was required of her. Holly waited until the Greengrass family had each gripped the Portkey, which was surprisingly a hoop of some kind, before reaching for it herself. Daphne's mother smiled at her reassuringly before the world whirred around her and Holly felt herself spinning as they leapt forward through the twisting nothingness that was a Portkey.

They landed in a field of snow, and Holly not so gracefully on her back. The spinning and twisting had made her lose her balance that the thump of landing and resulted in her tumbling over.

Not that she was the only one, Daphne and her sister Astoria were throwing snow at each other from where they lay, laughing and giggling. It was different seeing Daphne being anything but poised and in control. Her parents observed with open warmth and fondness at their daughter's antics.

She saw the snow ball too late to move out of its way, it hit her in the face, and she coughed snow out of her mouth. Daphne laughed at her, before coughing her own snowball up as her Astoria caught her unaware.

Holly took a moment to look around. She could feel the magic hum and vibrate along her skin, making the hairs on her arms prickled, though she supposed that could be because of the cold. To the left of them was a frozen pond and further ahead was a large house, two stories high. Surprisingly the roof was clear of snow and Holly could only guess was some kind of warming charm ensuring it never stuck for long.

It looked homey, loving rather than an aloof mansion on the top of the hill. Holly had no idea whereabouts they were exactly, but the Greengrass home and surrounding lands looked beautiful.

"Come on girls," Mrs Greengrass smiled, "Let's get you inside where we can have a hot chocolate, and you can tell me all about your first term."

Holly trailed behind the three Greengrass females, allowing them a few moments of privacy as they walked the distance between the edge of the wards and front door of their home.

* * *

The days flew by, far quicker than Holly would have liked, at the Greengrass residence. Holly never once felt as if she was an outsider looking in.

They decorated the Christmas tree that had been left until Daphne's return. Something it seemed that was a family tradition, even Mr Greengrass had taken part, and he had mostly remained aloof, busy with work except for the evening meal. Holly wasn't sure what to make of the man, though he made no outward sign that he disliked her. In fact, he seemed indifferent to her though she did catch him observing her more than once.

Holly learnt to ice-skate on the family pond, under the watchful eye of Mrs Greengrass. In the evening's they listened to riveting tales of old, told by the fire while drinking hot chocolate. In between the brief hours of doing holiday homework, they painted with Astoria, had snow fights and made snowmen which Mrs Greengrass enchanted to dance along with them.

Amongst her family, Daphne was an entirely different person, more relaxed and open and willing to make a fool of herself just for the amusement of her sister. But then at Hogwarts, there was always eyes watching, and here within the safety of her home, she had nothing to worry about.

Before Holly knew it, it was time to go to Diagon Alley to meet with Blaise, Theo and Draco as agreed amongst them before Holly would depart to Riddle Manor.

"I want you back no later than 3.30 Daphne."

"Yes mother, I promise, we are just meeting some school friends for lunch, doing a little Christmas shopping, and Holly will be making her way to Headmaster Riddle's Manor as per his instructions, and I will be returning home."

"Just make sure you do," Mrs Greengrass added as she checked over them both, "well you are presentable enough. Don't be late Daphne. Otherwise, this will be the only time you are allowed to Diagon Alley unsupervised until you come of age and that is only if I am feeling generous, I could easily make it until you are married."

"Yes mother," Daphne hummed in agreement, before taking the floo powder from the pot on the fireplace and eagerly shouted 'Diagon Alley'. Holly couldn't help but smile at her friend, before bidding farewell to Mrs Greengrass.

"We will see you in three days, and then it will be the Yule Ball. I already have the perfect dress robe picked out for you, it will look lovely with your complexion."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs Greengrass."

The woman smiled at her with a nod of her head, before allowing Holly to take the floo powder and follow Daphne.

While travelling by floo powder was an adventure in itself, Holly was grateful she didn't land on her butt as she stepped out at the Leaky Cauldron's designated fireplace for floo travel.

"Honestly, anyone would think I was an irresponsible child!" Daphne declared as soon as she saw her.

Holly smiled, "I believe that it is a mother's prerogative to worry and besides we are children."

Daphne huffed at her, "You know what I mean. I have my wand, I _know_ how to take care of myself. It's not like we can't use magic like the old days. Can you imagine not being able to use magic in the holidays, Holly?"

"Not really," she muttered in agreement. In another time another world altogether when magic had been hidden and secret, and the muggles ruled their own world. No, Holly couldn't imagine such a world as it stood now, but she was sure there were some that could.

They exited the Leaky Cauldron through the back door and tapped the appropriate bricks to reveal the hidden heart of London. Diagon Alley was decorated festively, and witches and wizards were dressed in green and red robes respectfully. Carollers could be heard and children's laughter.

Her first visit to the Alley had been an experience she wasn't likely to forget, but walking along side Daphne, she found herself seeing more than she had with Riddle, seeing past the awe that lay in every window to see the Alley itself. It was larger than she had first thought, with several alleyways varying off in other directions, leading to even more wonders.

She followed Daphne down an alley on the right of Gringotts bank, following the curve around the building until they reached a large open court yard. Various shops lined each side, mixed with restaurants, cafes, and what looked to be wine bars of some kind and so much more. Holly recognised several faces from school as they passed her by.

Where they exchanged polite nods of acknowledgement before continuing on with their business.

Centre of the court yard a large fountain took the stage, with three dancing statues that swayed in time to a beat only they could hear, but provided entertainment to onlookers. Various tables and verandas filled up spaces where already people were happily sitting at them eating.

"Where are we?"

"The Three Graces Court, it is a relatively new, only built up in the last nine years or so. It is home to some very well known brands throughout the Empire. It is also where the Three Crowns is, and that is where we are meeting the others," Daphne answered.

Daphne led her across the court yard with a desensitised interest in everything around her. But then Daphne had grown up with dancing statues and water sprites that they were more of an everyday occurrence to her than a wonder.

Holly could only presume that if one was to see something regular enough that it no longer became so awing.

Holly tried not to stare but couldn't help but be memorised by the dancing statues. Pulling her gaze from the fountain and to the direction that Daphne was leading her, Holly could see a towering building rise above her. On par with the height of Gringotts Bank, it towered over the other cafes and shops in the courtyard.

Three golden crowns entwined together glistening in the sunlight on the sign above the entrance. _Much like its namesake,_ Holly mused silently as they passed through the large glass doors, opened by a man wearing a grey pointed hat.

The main reception was light and airy and shimmered with golden flecks mixed within the white marble. Giant statues were carefully placed throughout the central reception area treading the fine line between being beautiful and too much.

Though if Holly was going, to be honest, the whole place screamed too much.

Despite wearing some of her best robes, Holly still felt under-dressed. The place screamed high-budget wealth that Holly wasn't quite comfortable with. She may be a Black in name, but she had no access to the kind of money that one would be required to spend here.

Though some habits were hard to break as she caught herself picking out the easiest exits should a hasty retreat be required.

"Miss Greengrass, looking as beautiful as ever," a tall, slender man, dressed in black and white greeted with a warm smile.

Daphne laughed softly, that surprised Holly, as she smiled at the man.

"Mr Rossi, delightful as always."

"Will your mother and sister being joining you?" Rossi asked, the smile still fixed firmly on his face as he bowed at Daphne.

"Not today I am afraid, though I, of course, will inform mother you were asking after her. I am meeting with friends today," Daphne answered, "Though Mr Rossi you must forgive my bad-manners. Please allow me to introduce my friend Holly Black."

Rossi's eyes widened in surprise as he turned to her, and Holly noted the smile expanded a fraction as well, as he bowed to her.

"Miss Black, it is an honour to meet you and please allow me to welcome you to the Three Crowns, the finest establishment in the whole of London, I can assure you."

Holly plastered a smile on her face in greeting, hoping that it looked genuine and natural rather than forced.

"It is certainly breathtaking, Mr Rossi," she said, doing her best to match Daphne's polished air.

He beamed at her. _Clearly, you did a good job._

Holly felt false almost instantly. How people coped with the pompous falseness every day, she had no idea.

"Is our table ready Mr Rossi?" Daphne asked, smoothly taking the man's attention back to her with a practised ease as if she had been doing it for years. But then she had probably watched her parents play these games for most of her life.

"Of course Miss Greengrass, two of your party have already arrived," Rossi chirped, "Please follow me."

He led them through a door on the left that opened up into a large room filled with tables of various sizes. Despite the earliness already there were a fair amount of witches and wizards conversing around them, sipping different drinks and eating food that smelled divine.

Holly was grateful that her stomach didn't grumble in approval. It was positively mouth watering.

They were led through a velvet plum coloured drape which hid another equally large room, this one held large curtained booths, three of them were empty, and curtains pulled back, while the remaining booths were closed hiding whoever maybe sitting at them.

The illusion of privacy while being in the open. She did not doubt that Silencing Charms were in place to ensure conversations remained exactly that. Private.

Rossi stopped at the furthest curtained booth and pulled back the curtain. Holly could see Blaise and Theo already seated.

"Thank you, Mr Rossi," Daphne said, discreetly passing something to Mr Rossi. The glisten of gold made Holly thinks it was at the very least a Galleon. "We are waiting on one other before we will order, but would it be possible to have two glasses of pumpkin fizz."

"Of course Miss Greengrass, I will ensure they are brought to you at once," Rossi said as he bowed, before turning on his heels and walked in the opposite direction.

Daphne shuffled into the booth next to Theo leaving Holly to sit next to Blaise.

Blaise smiled at her, casually kissing her cheek in the way of greeting before sipping his own glass of pumpkin fizz.

Rossi returned almost instantly with two flute glasses which he placed on the table before closing the curtain. It felt strange, sitting in the booth, unable to hear anything of the outside world. Holly wasn't sure she liked it at all.

"Is he always so..." Holly began, pausing only because she couldn't find the right word.

"Nice?" Daphne suggested with a smile.

"That's one way to put it I guess," Holly shrugged.

"Rossi is okay, not a bootlicker like the rest that work here. He likes who he likes and will go out of his way to cater to their every need," Blaise answered nonchalantly.

"Plus being nice helps get better tips," Daphne added with a pointed look directed at Blaise.

"I'm always nice," Blaise replied holding up his hands in a gesture of peace, before continuing, "He is also the master of discretion. Unlike some of the others, he ensures that the clients here have maximum privacy and a few extra Galleons that are thrown his way ensure that loyalty remains."

"We can have lunch without having to worry about being hounded by the press. Whether you like to accept it or not Holly, you are still a novelty in your own right. Professor Riddle shielded you from the vultures before Hogwarts, and while you were at Hogwarts well they wouldn't dare intrude, but here you are out on your own for the first time," Daphne began, "It is a story waiting to happen."

Holly groaned, "I'm guessing it is only going to get worse with the Food Bank opening."

"Indeed," Daphne answered, wrinkling her nose.

Holly smiled at the other girl, "You don't approve?"

"It's not that I don't approve," the other girl replied, "If I am honest I'm not quite sure what to make of it. Obviously, people deserve to have food, even if they are only muggles, but the fall out of such a thing. It is either a spur of the moment decision or a well-planned manoeuvre. It's going to make you friends, and enemies. Only time will tell which outweigh the other."

"Can we go with the well-planned manoeuvre," Holly grimaced, knowing full well it was a spur of the moment decision to piss of Riddle and ensure that the Warren will have a more regular supply of food.

Blaise chuckled, "Mother always says some of the most ingenious ideas happen quite by accident."

"Aww, Blaise you think I'm a genius?"

"Depends on what you will do with the position you will find yourself in after you open the Food Bank, whether you are a genius or not."

He smirked at her.

Holly grimaced, which the others chuckled over. In part, she knew they were joking with her, but despite that, she couldn't forget that they were the future elite of the Wizarding World and one day would wield political power that would change lives. At times they acted older than they actually were.

"How are you finding the Christmas holidays?" Holly asked, turning the conversation from her.

Holly didn't miss the grimace of either of the boy's faces, despite only being there for a second before the blank mask shielded it.

"Compared to Hogwarts home is quiet," Theo answered first.

Holly shared a look with Daphne, Theo never said it out loud, and Holly had only gleaned the knowledge from observing and listening to what wasn't said, but from what she understood Theo's father was difficult. Difficult that usually ended up being Theo's fault.

Holly studied the boy over the rim of her glasses looking for any tell tale signs that he was hurting but saw none that were obvious.

 _Just because they aren't obvious, doesn't mean they aren't there,_ she silently mused.

Not that she had the power to do anything, but that didn't mean she would sit ideally by and let her friend be hurt.

Blaise snorted, "Mine is anything but quiet. I almost miss Hogwarts for the peace."

She raised an eyebrow at the boy, but Daphne beat her to it by voicing the question out loud.

"What do you mean?"

"Mother is in one of her moods. It has been non-stop parties since I have returned. She states it is to inspire her creative senses, but honestly it just means there will be a husband number 8 soon."

Before any of them could comment further the curtains were once again pulled open to reveal Rossi and Draco.

Draco slid into the seat next to her, and with a nod of his head, Rossi let the curtains fall down.

Holly sipped her drink.

It was sweeter than regular pumpkin juice, but it was pleasantly refreshing.

"Better late than never Malfoy," Blaise greeted with a smirk.

"A Malfoy is never late, a Malfoy arrives precisely when he means to," Draco sniped in response.

Holly chuckled with the others, and Draco threw them a look of disgust.

Rossi returned with a glass of something for Draco, before leaving them with the promise he would return in ten minutes to take their order.

"You are all coming to the Yule Ball that we are hosting?" Draco asked the moment the curtain closed.

They all responded with yes's, which made the other boy nod once in acceptance.

"Good, I don't think I would be able to cope if I was just stuck with Goyle and Crabbe, not to mention Parkinson."

"I don't know Draco, you and Parkinson certainly seemed to be cosy the last few days of the term," Blaise suggested.

"Only because I couldn't escape her," Draco answered

"She will grow out of it...eventually," Theo comforted, "When she realises she doesn't stand a chance in marrying into the Malfoy family."

"Oh I wouldn't be so certain of that," Daphne smiled, "She certainly thinks it is already signed and sealed."

Draco paled enough that he looked greyer than his usual colour.

"We're _eleven!_ " Holly said with a roll of her eyes, "Surely you don't have to worry about that for some time. If then."

"It would be mental to make a decision now certainly. Everything but our last names is going to change completely in the next few years," Daphne answered, "but there have been a few stories that some girls were married off at the age of 12 in everything but consummation."

"That's horrible!" Holly spluttered, "Surely families don't still practice that?"

"Not the respectable ones no, they at least wait until we have come of age if not after, but there are certainly some families on the mainland of the Empire that have," Draco replied with a look of distaste on his face. "Besides there are only certain families that allow their daughters to have a choice. Most parents chose for them, which is why some girls spend their younger years doing everything they can to find a match of their choosing that can't be refused."

Holly opened her mouth and closed it quickly, preferring to remain silent. In truth, while she was learning the customs she was still oblivious to so many of them. Clearly, her horror wasn't completely hidden.

"Don't worry Holly, we won't let you get married to any duffers," Blaise said, patting her arm in comfort.

The others laughed, and Holly couldn't help but ask, "And just how do you plan to do that?"

She smiled.

"Marry her yourself?" Theo chuckled.

"Why I would consider it my honour," Blaise smirked; placed one hand over his heart and the other took her hand in his. Deep dark eyes looked at her intently and said with dead seriousness, "I do by pledge to my fair maiden, should the need arise to whisk you away from the snapping jaws of idiocy. To be forever hidden in a single tower where whispers of your legendary beauty shall pass the lips of peasants and many a knight shall quest to uncover. There you will be forever more safe from harm from all those who wish to force themselves upon you."

Holly bit her lip stop the laughter from escaping her before answering, "This pleases me greatly. I can sleep easy with the knowledge that you are ever at my side guarding me always and so name you my Knight Protector."

Blaise bowed his head graciously in acceptance before they all burst into laughter. The usual restraint like tightly coiled snakes collapsing safe with the knowledge that they were among friends, away from prying eyes. Holly listened; it was not the controlled chuckles or the measured mirth of what was considered socially acceptable. It was the sound of astonished delight, of childhood and innocence. Exactly how Daphne was in the safety of her home. It was perhaps the truest reflection of her friends she had ever seen, and Holly savoured it.

Because beneath the standoffish heir's to family names, where their entire Houses future rested on their shoulders. Beneath the dances, they were just children.

They were human.

"Well I do believe you have just proven yourself a Black, Holly," Theo said as he dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief, "You are just as crazy as the rest of them."

"Hey!" Draco cried, "My Mother is a Black and I will have you know she is most certainly not crazy."

"No, but your aunt definitely is," Blaise smirked.

Draco opened his mouth and closed it quickly, "I can't really argue with that," he muttered under his breath, but loud enough that they heard.

Holly smiled, "You've seen nothing yet Theo."

Daphne groaned loudly, "No, absolutely not. I forbid it, Holly if you become as crazy as your relatives I will have to disown you."

"But how would you cope without me?" She asked, giving her a look that made her appear sweet and innocent.

Daphne looked surprised for all of a second before a frown creased her forehead.

"Stop doing that!"

Holly smiled at her. And the others chuckled loudly, stopping only when the curtains opened, and Rossi reappeared to take their order.

* * *

"I wish you didn't have to go," Daphne said as they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

After lunch, they had bid the boys farewell and had spent the last two hours shopping for Yule gifts.

"It's three days, I will be back before you know it," Holly answered, pulling her cloak tight around her. An icy chill had made its presence known and from a glance around at other shoppers she wasn't the only one to feel it. "How are you not cold?"

Daphne gave her a sheepish look, "Mother always insists that our winter cloaks have warming charms laced within the fabric. If anything I'm too warm."

"Nifty trick, I will have to remember that one."

The Leaky Cauldron was surprisingly busier than it had been upon their arrival. People clambered around the tables by the fire, and warm broth was being consumed by many.

Together they made their way towards the small room with the fireplace linked to the floo network. Daphne hugged her which caught Holly off guard and whispered, "I will see you in three days."

Stepping back from the hug, Holly watched the other girl take some floo powder and step into the fireplace before explicitly declaring her destination. In a whoosh of green flames, she vanished from sight, and Holly was on her own.

Shifting the weight of her shopping bags onto one arm, she reached for Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.

"Ready or not," she sighed to herself, before throwing the powder down, "Riddle Manor."

She heard the whoosh, saw the green flames engulf her, before pulling and tugging her through, until she stepped out of the fireplace the other side.

"Tibby has missed Miss!"

Holly smiled at the house-elf who was standing in the hall no doubt waiting for her.

"Hello Tibby," she greeted softly.

"Master, wishes Miss to come at once to his study."

"Thanks, Tibby, you wouldn't mind taking my bags to my room please?" she asked.

"Of course Miss, Tibby doesn't mind at all Miss."

Leaving her bags in Tibby's tender care, Holly made her way through the familiar corridors until she came to Riddle's study.

She knocked once before entering. Riddle was expecting her anyway.

He was sitting behind his desk, quill on parchment scratching away.

"How come you don't have any Yule decorations?" she asked.

He glanced up at her.

"Why would I want such ridiculous things in the manor?" the revulsion could be heard in his voice.

Holly shrugged, "Get in the festive mood. Isn't kind of a tradition?"

He sneered at her.

"I will take that as a no then."

"Take it as you want, Snow."

Mentally Holly sighed, sometimes conversing with him was hard work, and then other times it was easy.

"Tibby said you wanted to see me."

"Indeed," he murmured, ruffling through the parchment on his desk before handing her a sheet, "Your opening speech for the grand opening of the Food Bank. You have this evening to go over it before you start reciting it to me tomorrow. I expect you will at least be able to get half way through if not more without reading off the parchment."

Holly sighed, "You really know how to take the fun out of life."

"Perish the thought," Riddle said, "I have much I need to do tonight Snow. That will be all."

Holly blinked in surprise before shrugging her shoulders. Some days he could be teased today was not one of those days. She turned around, hesitated for a moment before looking over her shoulder at him.

"Have the students woken up yet?"

He looked at her in surprise. Almost as if he had forgotten about their existence.

"I told you, Snow, unless you break the device, then the Curse is anchored, and they will remain asleep. We have yet to find the device."

She bit her lip, gnawing it at, "But the device has to be at Hogwarts right? It has to be in close. Otherwise, they wouldn't have fallen victim to it."

"Correct." He nodded once.

"Is that why you sent everyone home, so you could search the school properly?" she asked, recalling the conversation she had overheard while in the Hospital Wing.

"My, my Snow, you are perspective aren't you. Yes, that is why I have sent all the students home. Now as I told you, Snow, you have a speech to rehearse. You cannot afford a mistake in this."

"I hope you find it," she muttered, but she was certain he heard her though he made no acknowledgement.

She left him in his office and made her way to the room that had been hers in the summer.

Oddly she felt a little more at ease being back in the Manor.

* * *

XXX

* * *

 **A.N:** I have had this chapter planned out since the beginning of the story. I knew what needed to happen for the story to continue and move forward but I think in planning it I hadn't left room for the necessary changes that needed to be made that have occurred as the story has progressed. In that sense, I really hit a wall, and I can only apologise for how long it has taken me to write it.

Originally I wanted the Christmas Holidays in one chapter. Reaching the halfway point and realising that I was already on ten thousand words I knew that it might be best to split it. So split it I have.

I still have the second half to write, which I am hoping now that I have gotten over the wall will be much easier for me to do so and you won't have to wait as long.

Thank you all for your continued support, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.


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